GIFT   OF 


THE 


LIFE,  EULOGY, 


AND 


GREAT  ORATIONS 


OF 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


TWENTIETH  THOUSAND. 

ROCHESTER: 
WILBUR  M.  HAYWARD  &  CO.,  4  BURNS'  BUILDING. 

WHOLESALE    AGENTS. 

BOSTON:  French  &  Co.    NEW  YORK:  Dewitt  <fe  Davenport. 
PHILADELPHIA:  J.  W.  Moore.    CHICAGO:  Mellon  &  Co. 

1854. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853,  by 

LITTLE,  BROWN  AND  COMPANY, 
m  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


STEAM  PRESS  OF  LEE,  MANtf  &  CKX 

Stereotyped  by  J.  "W.  Brown. 


Office  of  tM  District 


i   Dist!i.c, 


TO  THE 

YOUNG    MEN    OF    AMERICA, 

IN  WHOSE  COMMAND  AyD  TKtTST 
19  COMMITTED    THE   HONOR  AND   DESTINY   OF   THIS  REPUBLIC, 

THIS  VOLUME, 
EMBODYING  AND  TRANSMITTING  THE 

LOFTY    ELOQUENCE    AND    SUBLIME    PATRIOTISM, 

OF 

DANIEI,    WEBSTER, 

Is  SfUjqjtctfuIIs  Srirtcatefr  ig  i^  ^uilts^ti, 

who  sincerely  trusts  that  they  will  adopt 
AS  A  MOTTO  AND  STANDARD  OF  ACTION, 

THAT     IMMORTAL     SENTENCE, 

"Liberty  and  Union,  now  and  forever, 
one  and  inseparable," 


CONTENTS. 


Page. 

LIFE  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER — BY  Louis  GAYLORD  CLARK,....       3 
EULOGY  ON  DANIEL  WEBSTER— BY  WILBUR  M.  HAYWARD,.     59 

ORATIONS— ADAMS  AND  JEFFERSON, 73 

FIRST  SETTLEMENT  OF  NEW  ENGLAND,...     95 

BUNKER  HILL  MONUMENT, 123 

SPEECH  OF  MR.  HAYNE, 137 

REPLY  TO  HAYNE, 171 


LIFE  OF 

DANIEL   WEBSTER. 


BY  LOUIS   GAYLORD    CLARK. 


IT  has  been  suggested  to  the  publisher  of  the  ensuing  speeches 
of  the  great  departed  statesman  DANIEL  WEBSTER — undeniably 
the  most  important  and  eloquent  of  all  his  public  efforts,  remarkable 
and  memorable  as  they  were — that  they  should  be  accompanied 
by  a  sketch  of  his  life,  and  some  familiar  account  of  his  public 
and  private  career. 

In  compliance  with  the  suggestion,  the  following  brief  narrative 
has  been  prepared.  The  extraordinary  sale  which  the  speeches 
have  already  received,  justifies  the  publisher  in  making  the  work 
as  complete  as  possible.  By  the  kind  permission  of  the  publishers 
of  Harper's  Magazine,  the  publisher  has  been  enabled  to  avail 
himself  of  an  elaborate  article  in  that  work  for  December  last, 
condensed  soon  after  the  death  of  its  illustrious  subject,  from  the 
elaborate  columns  of  the  journals  of  the  day,  extended  discourses 
from  the  public  pulpits,  addresses  of  members  of  the  bar,  and  asso 
ciative  or  legislative  eulogies. 

The  following  account  of  Mr.  WEBSTER'S  family,  himself  and  his 
consecutive  career,  is  condensed  from  an  able  article  in  a  Boston 
journal,  written  by  one  who  had  long  known  Mr.  WEBSTER  inti 
mately. 

"DANIEL  WEBSTER  was  the  son  of  EBENEZER  WEBSTER,  of 
Salisbury,  New  Hampshire.  He  was  born  in  that  part  of  Salisbury 
now  called  Boscawen,  on  the  eighteenth  of  January,  1782.  His 
father  was  a  captain  in  the  revolutionary  army,  and  became  subse 
quently,  though  not  bred  a  lawyer,  one  of  the  Judges  of  the  Court  of 

Common  Pleas.  He  received  his  academical  education  at  Exeter  and 

. 

1  R  <R  I  O  R   ' 


Portsmouth.  He  began  his  college  studies  at  the  latter  seminary  in 
1797,  and  received  his  degree  in  1801.  During  the  intervals  of  study 
he  taught  a  school.  After  leaving  college,  he  tookcharge  of  an 
academy  at  Fryeburg,  in  Maine.  ~  He  then  applied  himself  to  the 
study  of  the  law,  first  with  Mr.  Thompson,  a  lawyer  of  Salisbury, 
and  next  with  Christopher  Gore,  of  Boston,  who  afterwards  became 
Governor  of  Massachusetts.  He  came  to  Boston  in  1804,  and  was 
admitted  to  the  bar  in  the  following  year. 

"Mr.  Webster's  father  at  this  time  strongly  urged  him  to 
take  the  office  of  Clerk  of  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas  in  New 
Hampshire,  which  was  tendered  for  his  acceptance ;  but  the  son 
fortunately  xesisted  the  temptation — for  such  it  then  appeared  in 
the  eyes  of  every  body.  He  remained  at  Boscawen  till  his  father's 
death,  in  1807.  He  then  removed  to  Portsmouth,  New  Hamp- 
shire,^where  he  formed  an  acquaintance  with  Dexter,  Story,  Mason, 
and  other  men,  who  became  eminent  at  the  bar  and  in  public  life. 
( Mr.  Webster  was  chosen  Representative  to  Congress  in  November, 
1812,  and  took  his  first  seat  in  Congress  at  the  extra  session  in 
May,  1813. 

On  the  10th  of  June,  in  that  year,  he  delivered  his  first  speech  in 
that  body,  on  the  subject  of  the  Orders  in  Council,  and  there  he 
gave  clear  manifestations  of  those  extraordinary  powers  of  mind 
which  his  subsequent  career  brought  out  into  so  full  a  develop 
ment. 

''He  was  re-elected  to  Congress  in  1814,  and  in  December  1815, 
removed  to  Boston,  where  he  devoted  himself  to  legal  practice.  His 
reputation  as  a  lawyer  had  now  risen  high,  and  for  five  or  six  years 
he  had  little  to  do  with  politics.  In  1820  he  served  as  an  Elector 
of  President,  and  in  1821  as  a  member  of  the  State  Convention 
which  revised  the  Constitution  of  Massachusetts.  In  1822  he  wras 
elected  to  Congress  from  the  Boston  district,  and  immediately 
became  a  leading  member  of  that  body.)  His  speech  on  Greek 
Independence  was  delivered  in  1823. 

"Mr.  Webster  was  re-elected  to  Congress  from  Boston  in  1824. 


He  delivered  the  Address  on  laying  the  corner  stone  of  the  Bunker 
Hill  Monument  in  1825.  He  was  again  chosen  to  Congress  in 
1826,  and  in  the  following  year  he  was  elected  a  Senator  of  the 
United  States  by  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts.  In  the  same 
year  he  delivered  his  Eulogy  on  Adams  and  Jefferson. 

""  Mr.  Webster's  '  Great  Speech,'  as  it  is  deservedly  called — great, 
both  for  its  intrinsic  qualities  and  for  its  effects  upon  the  public 
mind*-— was  delivered  in  the  Senate  on  the  26th  of  January  1830, 
in  the  debate  on  what  are  called  '  Foot's  Resolutions.'  Next  to 
the  Constitution  itself,  tmsTspeech  is  esteemed  to  be  the  most  correct 
and  ample  definition  of  the  true  powers  and  functions  of  the  Fed 
eral  government. 

"Mr.  Webster  continued  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States 
till  1840.  When  Van  Buren  was  elected  President,  in  1836,  Mr. 
Webster  received  the  electoral  vote  of  Massachusetts.  On  the 
election  of  General  Harrison,  in  1840,  Mr.  Webster  was  appointed 
Secretary  of  State.  The  sudden  death  of  the  President  and  the 
accession  of  Mr.  Tyler,  caused  a  breaking  up  of  the  cabinet,  all  the 
members  of  which,  except  Mr.  Webster,  resigned  their  places.  The 
result  of  his  remaining  in  office  was  the  Ashburton  treaty — nego- 
ciated  by  Mr.  Webster  in  1842,  which  settled  the  question  of  the 
north-eastern  boundary,  and  at  once  put  an  end  to  a  long  protracted 
I  and  threatening  dispute  with  Great  Britian. 

"  Shortly  after  this,  Mr.  Webster  resigned  the  office  of  Secretary 
of  State,  and  was  again  chosen  Senator  from  Massachusetts  in 
March,  1845.  On  the  death  of  General  Taylor,  in  July,  1850,  and 
the  accession  of  Mr.  Frllmore  to  the  Presidency,  he  was  again 
appointed  Secretary  of  State,  and  in  this  office  he  died  at  Marsh- 
field,  on  the  morning  of  the  24th  of  October,  1852.": 

Such,  in  brief  but  comprehensive  compass,  are  the  geneology  and 
prominent  points  in  the.  public  life  of  Mr.  Webster.  A  considera 
tion  of  his  character  as  a  public  man,  gathered  partly  from  the 
quarters  we  have  indicated,  and  partly  from  original  sources,  will 
not  be  uninteresting  to  our  readers  ; 


6 

"  It  seems  to  have  been  universally  conceded,  since  Mr.  Web 
ster's  death,  that  his  ambition  throughout  life,  or  at  least  throughout 
his  entire  public  career,  was  to  serve  his  country ;  and  to  illustrate 
and  perpetuate  the  great  charter  of  our  liberties,  of  which  he  was 
alike  the  ablest  expounder  and  defender. 

"  And  yet  look  at  him — for  the  lesson  is  not  unworthy  of  heedful 

consideration.     He  was  a  mere  private  individual ;  the  son  of  a 

poor,  struggling  New  Hampshire  farmer ;  who  rose  to  the  highest 

in  the  state         (for  the  PRESIDENT  himself  was  not  before  him) 

"by  the  force  of  his  own  mind.     His  public  life  comprised  a  period 

of  nearly  thirtyjhree  years,  during  which  he  never  shrunk  from  the 

declaration  of  his  principles,  nor  from  the  full  discharge  of  all  his 

responsibilities.    He  never  failed  his  country  in  the  hour  of  her 

need.    i"He    was  independent,  self-poised,  steadfast,  unmovable. 

You  could  calculate  him,  like  a  planet.'^    His  life  was  a  series  of 

great   acts   for    great  purposes.     With  the  peace    of   1815,   his 

most    distinguished   public  labors  began ;    "  and   thenceforward/ ' 

remarks  one  of  his  ablest  contemporaries,  rhe  devoted  himself,  the 

ardor  of  his  youth,  the  energies  of  his  manhood,  and  the  autumnal 

wisdom  of  his    riper    years,   to   the   affairs    of  legislation    and 

v  diplomacy,    preserving  the  peace,   keeping  unsullied   the   honor, 

establishing  the  boundaries,  and  vindicating  the  neutral  rights  of 

his  country,  and  laying  its  foundations  deep  and  sure.^j  '  On  all 

measures,  in  fine,  affecting  his  country,  he  has  inscribed  his  opinions, 

and  left  the  traces  of  his  hand.     By  some  felicity  of  his  personal  life, 

by  some  deep  or  beautiful  word,  by  some  service  of  his  own,  or 

some  commemoration  of  the  services  of  others,  the  PAST  gives 

us  back  his  name,  and   will  pass  it  on  and  on,  to  the  farthest 

Future."     "3 

— *  i '— 

Webster  never  betrayed  the  mere  politician,  either  in  his  public 
acts  or  in  his  speeches.  Their  tone  was  always  elevated.  No 
undignified  appeal,  no  merely  personal  reflection  upon  an  opponent, 
no  unparliamentary  allusion,  ever  escaped  his  lips,  in  the  hottest 
strife  of  debate  ;  nor,  during  his  whole  career  in  the  councils  of  the 


nation,  was  he  ever,  "  called  to  order,"  by  the  presiding  officer  of 
either  body.j 

As  a  Man,  DANIEL  WEBSTER  was  esteemed  and  loved  by  all 
who  knew  him,  and  loved  and  esteemed  the  most  by  those  who 
knew  him  most  intimately.  While  his  unaffected,  natural,  innate 
dignity  never  deserted  him,  he  was  nevertheless  in  heart  and 
manner,  as  simple  and  unostentatious  as  a  child.  The  kindliness 
and  tenderness  of  his  heart  were  seen  and  felt  by  all  who  came 
within  the  charmed  circle  of  his  intimacy.  He  was,  as  we  have 
said,  a  country  boy  in  early  life ;  and  it  is  eminently  true,  and 
especially  worthy  of  remark,  that  the  associations  of  the  country 
were  always  uppermost  in  his  bosom,  when  happily  liberated  from 
affairs  of  government  and  the  state.  He  was  always  happy,  if  we 
may  take  the  concurrent  testimony  of  his  oldest  friends  and  of 
himself,  when  he  could  escape  from  the  worrying  cares  and  anxieties 
of  professional  or  of  public  life,  to  the  retired  and  homely  pursuits 
of  his  Marshfield  farm.  The  most  genial  humor  pervaded  all  he 
did  and  said,  while  thus  engaged. 

"  He  loved,"  (says  a  forceful  but  evidently  very  warped  writer, 
who,  from  some  difference  of  opinion  upon  a  much-agitated  subject, 
regarded  him  with  no  partial  eye,)  "  he  loved  out- door  and  manly 
sports — boating,  fishing,  fowling.  He  was  fond  of  nature,  loving 
New  Hampshire's  mountain  scenery.  He  had  started  small  and 
poor,  had  risen  great  and  high,  and  honorably  had  fought  his  way 
alone.  He  was  a  farmer,  and  and  took  a  countryman's  delight  in 
country  things ;  in  loads  of  hay,  in  trees ;  and  the  noble  Indian 
corn — in  monstrous  swine.  He  had  a  patriarch's  love  of  sheep — 
choice  breeds  thereof  he  had.  He  took  delight  in  cows — short- 
horned  Durnhams,  Herefordshires,  Aryshires,  Alderneys.  He  tilled 
paternal  acres  with  his  own  oxen.  He  loved  to  give  the  kine 
fodder.  It  was  pleasant  to  hear  his  talk  of  oxen.  And  but  three 
days  before  he  left  the  earth,  too  ill  to  visit  them,  his  oxen,  lowing, 
came  to  see  their  sick  lord,  and  as  he  stood  in  his  door,  his  great 
cattle  were  driven  up,  that  he  might  smell  their  healthy  breath, 


8 

and  look  his  last  on  those  broad,  generous  faces,  that  were  never 
false  to  him.  He  was  a  friendlv  man :  all  along  the  shore  there 
\vere  plain  men  that  loved  him — whom  he  also  loved ;  a  good 
neighbor,  a  good  townsman — 

ofty.and  SQim-La 


* 
"R 


that  sought  him,  sweet  as  summer. 


And  with  all  his  greatness,  we  must  be  permitted  to  regard  him 
in  the  light  that  we  love  best  to  regard  the  departed  statesman. 
We  love  to  read  the  simple,  cordial,  honest,  letters,  that  he  addressed 
to  his  farmer-overseer,  at  Franklin,  and  those  to  old  friends,  in 
which  he  described  the  struggles  of  his  early  life  in  the  country ;  in 
which  humor  sometimes  vies  with  Bathos,  until  you  both  laugh  and 
weep  at  the  felicity  of  the  combination.  What,  for  example,  could 
be  more  simple,  more  manly,  more  touching,  than  the  following 
extract  ?  The  words  of  the  closing  paragraph  seem  to  have  sobbed 
as  they  dropped  from  the  pen  : 

"My  Father,  Ebenezer  Webster! — born  at  Kingston,  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  State,  in  1739 — the  handsomest  man  I  ever  saw, 
except  my  brother  EZEKIEL,  who  appeared  to  me,  and  so  does  he 
now  seem  to  me,  the  very  finest  human  form  that  ever  I  laid  eyes  on. 
I  saw  him  in  his  coffin — a  white  forehead — a  tinged  cheek — a  com 
plexion  as  clear  as  heavenly  light !  But  where  am  I  straying  ? 

"  The  grave  has  closed  upon  him,  as  it  has  on  all  my  brothers 
and  sisters.  We  shall  soon  be  all  together.  But  this  is  melancholy 
— and  I  leave  it.  Dear,  dear  kindred  blood,  how  I  love  you  all  1 

"  This  fair  field  is  before  me — I  could  see  a  lamb  on  any  part 
of  it.  I  have  plowed  it,  and  raked  it,  and  hoed  it,  but  I  never 
mowed  it.  Somehow,  I  could  never  learn  to  hang  a  scythe !  I  had 
not  wit  enough.  My  brother  Joe  used  to  say  that  my  father  sent 
jne..  to  college  in  order  to  make  me  equal  to  the  rest  of  the  children ! 
Of  a  hot  day  in  July — it  must  have  been  one  of  the  last  years  of 
Washington's  administration — I  was  making  hay,  with  my  father, 
just  where  I  now  see  a  remaining  elm  tree,  about  the  middle  of  the 


9 

afternoon.     The  Hon.  ABIEL  FOSTER,  M.  C.,  who  lived  in  Canter 
bury,  six  miles  off,'  called  at  the  house,  and  came  into  the  field  to  see 
my  father.     He  was  a  worthy  man,  college-learned,  and  had  been 
a  minister,  but  was  not  a  person  of  any  considerable  natural  powers. 
My  father  was  his  friend  and  supporter.     He  talked  a  while  in 
the  field,  and  went  on  his  way.     When  he  was  gone,  my   father 
called  me  to  him,  and  we  sat  down  beneath  the  elm,  on  a  hay-cock. 
He  said,  'My  son,  that  is  a  worthy  man,  he  is  a  member  of  Con 
gress  ;  he  goes  to  Philadelphia,  and  gets  six  dollars  a  day,  while  I 
toil  here.     It  is  because  he  had  an  education,  which  I  never  had. 
If  I  had  had  his  early  education,  I  should  have  been  in  Philadel 
phia  in  his  place.     I  came  near  it,  as  it  was ;  but  I  missed  it,  and 
now  I  must  work  here/     '  My  dear  father/  said  I,   <  you  shall  not 
work  ;  my  brother  and  I  will  work  for  you,  and  wear  our  hands 
out,  and  you  shall  rest' — and  I  remember  to  have  cried,  and  I  cry 
now  at  the  recollection.     '  My  child/  said  he,  '  it  is  of  no  impor 
tance  to  me ;  I  now  live  but  for  my  children ;  I  could  not  give 
your  elder  brother  the  advantages  of  knowledge,  but  I  can  do 
something  for  you.     Exert  yourself— improve  your  opportunities— 
learn — learn — and  when  I  am  gone,  you  will  not  need  to  go  through 
the  hardships  which  I  have  undergone,  and  which  have  made  me 
an  old  man  before  my  time/j  The  next  May  he  took  me  to  Exeter, 
to  the  Philips  Exeter  Academy — placed  me  under  the  tuition  of 
its  excellent  preceptor,  Dr.  BENJAMIN  ABBOTT,  still  living." 
******  * 

We  pass  to  an  illustration  or  two  of  Mr,  Webster's  oratorical 
manner,  and  a  few  anecdotes  of  Mr.  Webster,  connected  with  his . 
private  life  and  public  performances,  j  No  one  who  has  ever  seen 
Mr.  Webster,  will  need  any  aid  to  memory  in  recalling  his  personal 
appearance,  his' pre-eminently  marked  features ;  f  the  commanding 
the  height,  large  head  and  ample  forehead ;  the  large,  black,  solemn, 
cavernous  eyes,  under  the  pent-house  of  the  overhanging  brows , 
the  firm,  compressed  lips,  and  broad  chest — all  these  can  never 
be  forgotten.  ^  I 


10 

We  heard  Mr.  Webster,  for  the  first  time,  on  the  platform  of  the 
new  Exchange  in  Wall-street,  which  was  crowded  with  people ; 
but  his  voice  in  tones  rather  harsh,  we  thought,  than  musical,  could 
be  heard  to  the  extremest  limit  of  the  vast  crowd ;  (and  well  do  we 
remember  his  hesitation  in  the  choice  of  a  word,  which  he  seemed 
determined  to  have,  and  which  he  did  have  at  last,  and  used  with 
a  most  happy  effect.  •'  We  want/'  said  he,  speaking  of  the  nec< 
sity  for  a  national  bank,  '^n  institution  that  shall — an  institution 
that  has — an  odor  of  nationality  about  it ;"  and  the  applause  that 
followed,  attested  the  force  and  felicitousness  of  the  figure. 

A  friend  recently  mentioned  to  the  writer  another  instance 
which  happily  illustrates  this  peculiarity  of  Mr.  Webster,  when 
speaking  extemporaneously.  (He  seldom  would  make  use  of  a  word 
or  words  which  did  not  altogether  satisfy  him ;  when  that  did 
happen,  he  would  strike  from  his  remarks,  by  a  short  pause,  the 
word  he  had  first  used,  and  substitute  another.  If  that  did  not 
altogether  please  him,  he  would  employ  still  another,  and  so 
until  he  had  obtained  just  the  word  he  wanted,  and  that  would  be 
uttered  with  such  emphasis  as  he  alone  could  give  to  language. 

"A  year  or  two  ago,"  continued  the  gentleman  to  whom  we 
have  alluded,  I  heard  him  speak  in  the  Supreme  Court  at  Wash 
ington,  on  the  Great  Wheeling  Bridge  case.  In  the  course  of  his 
argument,  he  alluded  to  a  large  sum  of  money  involved  in  that 
case,  which  had  been  shut  up  for  many  years  in  the  vaults  of  the 
Bank  of  Georgia : 

" '  Now,  your  Honors/  said  Mr.  Webster,  '  we  want  the  Bank 
to  come  out — to  show  its  hand — to  render  up — to  give  forth — to 

DISGORGE  !  ' 

"  Any  one/'  said  our  informant,  "  who  has  ever  heard  Mr. 
Webster  speak  emphatically,  will  not  be  surprised  when  I  say  that  the 
word  'DISGORGE/  as  uttered  by  him  on  the  occasion  I  have  mentioned, 
weighed  about  twelve  pounds  !" 

Many  readers  of  this  sketch  will  perhaps  remember  hearing  Mr. 
Webster  in  this  city,  in  that  celebrated  public  dinner-speech  of 


11 

nis,  wherein  he  paid  that  magnificent  tribute  to  the  genius  and 
character  of  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  There  is  a  circumstance 
connected  with  one  of  the  finest  passages  in  this  speech,  which,  in 
in  the  opinion  of  the  writer,  deserves  to  be  recorded.  "  You  could 
have  heard" — remarks  a  distinguished  friend  and  correspondent  of 
the  writer  hereof,  who  had  the  pleasure  of  sitting  very  near  Mr. 
Webster  on  the  occasion  alluded  to — "  you  could  have  heard  the 
falling  of  a  pin  any  where  in  the  crowded  assemblage,  while  Mr. 
Webster  was  speaking.  When  he  came  to  advert  to  Hamilton's 
influence  in  creating  and  establishing  a  system  of  public  credit,  at  a 
time  when  it  was  so  much  needed,  he  illustrated  his  subject  with  that 
memorable  figure :  '  He  smote  the  rock  of  the  national'  resources, 
and  abundant  streams  of  revenue  gushed  forth :'  and  as  Mr. 
Webster  said  this,  he  brought  his  right  hand  down  upon  the  table,  to 
enforce  the  simile ;  and  in  so  doing  he  happened  to  hit  a  wine-glass, 
which  broke,  and  slightly  cut  his  hand  :  and  as  the  blood  oozed  from 
the  wound,  he  slowly  wrapped  a  white  napkin  around  it,  and  then 
finished  the  figure :  '  He  touched  the  dead  corpse  of  the  Public 
Credit,  and  it  rose  upon  its  feet ! " 

It  is  the  belief  of  our  informant  that  the  last  simile  "  sprung  from 
the  occasion,"  and  was  suggested  by  the  white  napkin  and  the  oozing 
blood.  Be  this  as  it  may,  for  mingled  force  and  appositeness,  the 
figure  has  rarely  if  ever  been  excelled,  even  by  the  great  orator 
who  used  it. 

Undoubtedly  Mr.  Webster's  personal  presence  was  onf*"great 
element  of  his  matchless  oratory.  "  When  he  rose  and  came  down 
to  the  edge  of  the  platform,  with  a  small  roll  of  manuscript  in  his 
hand,  at  the  celebration  of  the  completion  of  Bunker-Hill  Monu 
ment,"  said  a  distinguished  jurist  of  this  city,  "  and  cast  a  glance 
at  the  sea  of  two  hundred  thousand  faces  turned  up  to  his  from 
the  amphitheatre  and  below,  then  looked  up  to  the  monument 
towering  above  him  into  the  bright,  clear,  air,  he  looked  the  orator, 
if  ever  earthly  mortal  bespoke  it ! " 

As  immediately  connected  with  one  of  the  most  magnificent 


12 

speeches  ever  made  in  any  public  body  by  any  statesman  in  the 
world — a  speech  which  is  the  "  crowning  glory  "  of  our  present 
collection — we  present,  from  the  excellent  work  by  Mr.  CHARLES  W. 
MARCH,  entitled  "  Daniel  Webster  and  his  contemporaries"  a  very 
vivid  sketch  of  the  scene  in  the  Senate  Chamber,  (during  and  at 
the  conclusion  of  the  great  orator's  "  Great  Speech  "  in  reply  to  Mr. 
HAYNE,  of  South  Carolina.)  It  is  authentically  related  of  Mr. 
t  WEBSTER,  that  as  he  was  walking  down  the  centre-walk  in  the 
Capitol  Park,  the  day  after  Mr.  HAYNE'S  speech,  a  friend  said  to 
him : 

"  Mr.  WEBSTER,  that  will  be  a  difficult  speech  to  answer." 
"  We  shall  see,"  said  Mr.  WEBSTER,  taking  off  his  hat,  and  passing 
his  hand  over  his  great  broad  forehead.  "  We — shall — see— sir,  to 
morrow  ;  we  shall  see  to-morrow,  Sir !  " 
/And  they  did  see — and  the  country — and  the  world." 
vlt  was  on  Tuesday,  January  the  26 th,  1830, — a  day  to  be  here 
after  forever  memorable  in  Senatorial  annals, — that  the  Senate 
resumed  the  consideration  of  Foote's  Resolution.  There  was 
never  before  in  the  city,  an  occasion  of  so  much  excitement.  To 
witness  this  great  intellectual  contest,  multitudes  of  strangers 
had  for  two  or  three  days  previous  been  rushing  into  the  city,  and 
the  hotels  overflowed.  As  early  as  nine  o'clock  of  this  morning, 
crowds  poured  into  the  Capitol,  in  hot  haste ;  at  12  o'clock,  the 
hour  of  meeting,  the  Senate-Chamber, — its  galleries,  floor  and  even 
lobbies, — was  filled  to  its  utmost  capacity.  The  very  stairways 
were  dark  with  men,  who  hung  on  to  one  another,  like  bees  in  a 
swarm. 

The  House  of  Representatives  was  early  deserted.  An  adjourn 
ment  would  have  hardly  made  it  emptier.  The  speaker,  it  is  true, 
retained  his  chair,  but  no  business  of  moment  was,  or  could  be, 
attended  to.  Members  all  rushed  in  to  hear  Mr.  Webster,  and  no 
call  of  the  House  or  other  Parliamentary  proceedings  could  compel 
them  back.  The  floor  of  the  Senate  was  so  densely  crowed,  that 
persons  once  in  could  not  get  out,  nor  change  their  position ;  in  the 


13 

rear  of  the  Vice-Presidential  chair,  the  crowd  was  particularly 
intense.     Dixon  H.   Lewis,  then  a  Representative  from  Alabama,-' 
became  wedged  in  here.     From  his  enormous  size,  it  was  impossi-^ 
ble  for  him  to   move   without   displacing  a  vast   portion  of  thei 
multitude.     Unfortunately  too,  for  him,  he  was  jammed  in  directly' 
behind  the  chair  of  the  Vice-President,  where  he  could  not  see,  and' 
hardly  hear,  the  speaker.     By  slow  and  laborious  effort — pausing; 
occasionally  to   breathe — he  gained  one  of  the  windows,  which, 
constructed  of  painted  glass,  flank  the  chair  of  the  Vice-President 
on  either  side.     Here  he  paused,  unable  to  make  more  headway. 
But  determined  to  see  Mr.  Webster  as  he  spoke,  with  his  knife  hef 
made  a  large  hole  in  one  of  the  panes  of  glass ;  which  is  still  visiblel 
as  he  made  it.     Many  were  so  placed,  as  not  to  be  able  to  see  thel 
speaker  at  all. 

The  courtesy  of  Senators  accorded  to  the  fairer  sex  room  on, 
the  floor — the  most  gallant  of  them,  their  own  seats.  The  gay 
bonnets  and  brilliant  dresses  threw  a  varied  and  picturesque  beauty!* 
over  the  scene,  softening  and  embelishing  it. 

Seldom,  if  ever,  has  speaker  in  this  or  any  other  country  had 
more  powerful  incentives  to  exertion;  a  subject,  the  determination 
of  which  involved  the  most  important  interests,  and  even  duration, 
of  the  republic ;  competitors,  unequalled  in  reputation,  ability,  or; 
position  ;  a  name  to  make  still  more  glorious,  or  lose  forever  ;  and 
an  audience,  comprising  not  only  persons  of  this  country  most 
eminent  in  intellectual  greatness,  but  representatives  of  other 
nations,  where  the  art  of  eloquence  had  flourished  for  ages.  All 
the  soldier  seeks  in  opportunity  was  nere. 

Mr.  Webster  perceived,  and  felt  equal  to,  the  destinies  of  the! 
moment.     The  very  greatness  of  the  hazard  exhilarated  him.     Hisj< 
spirits  rose  with  the  occasion.     He  awaited  the  time  of  onset  with! 
a   stern  and  impatient  joy.     He   felt,   like   the  war-horse  of  the 
Scriptures,  who  "paweth  in  the  valley,  and  rejoiceth  in  his  strength  : 
who  goeth  on  to  meet  the  armed  men, — who  sayeth  among  the> 
trumpets,  Ha,  ha!  and  who  smelleth  the  battle  afar  off,  the  thunder ! 
of  the  captains  and  the  shouting/5 


14 

A  confidence  in  his  own  resources,  springing  from  no  vain  estimate 
of  his  power,  but  the  legitimate  offspring  of  previous  severe  mental 
discipline  sustained  and  excited  him.  He  had  guaged  his  opponents, 
his  subject  and  himself. 

He  was  too,  at  this  period,  in  the  very  prime  of  manhood.  He 
had  reached  middle  age — an  era  in  the  life  of  man,  when  the 
faculties,  physical  or  intellectual,  may  be  supposed  to  attain  their 
fullest  organization,  and  most  perfect  development.  Whatever 
there  was  in  him  of  intellectual  energy  and  vitality,  the  occasion, 
his  full  life  and  high  ambition,  might  well  bring  forth. 

He  never  rose  on  an  ordinary  occasion  to  address  an  ordinary 
audience  more  self-possessed.  There  was  no  tremulousness  in  his 
voice  nor  manner ;  nothing  huried,  nothing  simulated.  The  calm 
ness  of  superior  strength  was  visible  everywhere ;  in  countenance, 
voice,  and  bearing.  A  deep  seated  conviction  of  the  extraordinary 
character  of  the  emergency,  and  of  his  ability  to  control  it,  seemed 
to  possess  him  wholly.  If  an  observer,  more  than  ordinarily  keen- 
sighted,  detected  at  times  something  like  exultation  in  his  eye,  he 
presumed  it  sprang  from  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  and  the 
anticipation  of  victory. 

•^  The  anxiety  to  hear  the  speech  was  so  intense,  irrepressible,  and 
universal,  that  no  sooner  had  the  Vice-President  assumed  the  chair, 
than  a  motion  was  made  and  unanimously  carried,  to  postpone  the 
ordinary  preliminaries  of  Senatorial  action,  and  to  take  up  immedi 
ately  the  consideration  of  the  resolution. 

Mr.  Webster  rose  and  addressed  the  Senate.  His  exordium  is 
known  by  heart,  everywhere :  "  Mr.  President,  when  the  mariner 
has  been  tossed,  for  many  days,  in  thick  weather,  and  on  an 
unknown  sea,  he  naturally  avails  himself  of  the  first  pause  in  the 
storm,  the  earliest  glance  of  the  sun,  to  take  his  latitude,  and  ascer 
tain  how  far  the  elements  have  driven  him  from  his  true  course. 
Let  us  imitate  this  prudence ;  and  before  we  float  further,  on  the 
waves  of  this  debate,  refer  to  the  point  from  which  we  departed, 
that  we  may,  at  least,  be  able  to  form  some  conjecture  where  we 
now  are.  I  ask  for  the  reading  of  the  resolution." 


15 

There  wanted  no  more  to  enchain  the  attention.  There  was  a 
spontaneous,  though  silent,  expression  of  eager  approbation,  as  the 
orator  concluded  these  opening  remarks.  And  while  the  clerk  read 
the  resolution,  many  attempted  the  impossibility  of  getting  nearer 
the  speaker.  Every  head  was  inclined  closer  towards  him,  every 
ear  turned  in  the  direction  of  his  voice — and  that  deep,  sudden, 
mysterious  silence  followed,  which  always  attends  fulness  of  emotion. 
From  the  sea  of  upturned  faces  before  him,  the  orator  beheld  his 
thoughts  reflected  as  from  a  mirror.  The  varying  countenance, 
the  suffused  eye,  the  earnest  smile,  and  ever- attentive  look 
assured  him  of  his  audience's  entire  sympathy.  If  among  his 
hearers  there  were  those  who  affected  at  first  an  indifference  to  his 
glowing  thoughts  and  fervent  periods,  the  difficult  mask  was  soon 
laid  aside,  and  profound,  undisguised,  devoted  attention  followed.  In 
the  earlier  part  of  his  speech,  one  of  his  principal  opponents  seemed 
deeply  engrossed  in  the  careful  perusal  of  a  newspaper  he  held 
before  his  face ;  but  this,  on  nearer  approach,  proved  to  be  upside 
down.  In  truth,  all,  sooner  or  later,  voluntarily,  or  in  spite  of 
themselves,  were  wholly  carried  away  by  the  eloquence  of  the 
orator. 

One  of  the  happiest  retorts  ever  made  in  a  forensic  controversy 
was  his  application  of  Hayne's  comparison  of  the  ghost  of  the 
"  murdered  coalition  "  to  the  ghost  of  Banquo  : 

"Sir,  the  honorable  member  was  not,  for  other  reasons,  entirely 
happy  in  his  allusions  to  the  story  of  Banquo's  murder,  and  Ban- 
quo's  ghost.  It  was  not,  I  think,  the  friends,  but  the  enemies  of  the 
murdered  Banquo,  at  whose  bidding  his  spirit  would  not  down. 
The  honorable  gentleman  is  fresh  in  his  reading  of  the  English 
classics,  and  can  put  me  right  if  I  am  wrong ;  but,  according  to 
my  poor  recollection,  it  was  at  those  who  had  begun  with  caresses, 
and  ended  with  foul  and  treacherous  murder,  that  the  gory  locks 
were  shaken !  The  ghost  of  Banquo,  like  that  of  Hamlet,  was  an 
honest  ghost.  It  disturbed  no  innocent  man.  It  knew  where  its 
appearance  would  strike  terror,  and  who  would  cry  out,  a  ghost !  It 


16 

made  itself  visible  in  the  right  quarter,  and  compelled  the  guilty, 
and  the  conscience-smitten,  and  none  others,  to  start,  with, 

"'Pr'ythee,  see  there!  behold  1   look!   lo, 
If  I  stand  here,  I  saw  him  !  ' 

THEIR  eyeballs  were  seared  (was  it  not  so,  sir  ?)  who  had  thought 
to  shield  themselves,  by  concealing  their  own  hand,  and  laying  the 
imputation  of  the  crime  on  a  low  and  hireling  agency  in  wicked 
ness  ;  who  had  vainly  attempted  to  stifle  the  workings  of  their 
own  coward  consciences,  by  ejaculating,  through  white  lips  and 
chattering  teeth,  "  Thou  canst  not  say  I  did  it !  "  I  have  misread 
the  great  poet  if  those  who  had  no  way  partaken  in  the  deed  of 
death,  either  found  that  they  were,  or  feared  that  they  should  be, 
pushed  from  their  stools  by  the  ghost  of  the  slain,  or  exclaimed,  to 
a  spectre  created  by  their  own  fears,  and  their  own  remorse, 
"  Avaunt  and  quit  our  sight ! 

There  was  a  smile  of  appreciation  upon  the  faces  all  around,  at  this 
most  felicitous  use  of  another's  illustration — this  turning  one's  own 
witness  against  him — in  which  Col.  Hayne  good  humoredly  joined. 

As  the  orator  carried  out  the  moral  of  Macbeth,  and  proved  by 
the  example  of  that  deep-thinking,  intellectual,  but  insanely  ambi 
tious  character,  how  little  of  substantial  good  or  permanent  power 
\v$s  to  be  secured  by  a  devious  and  unblessed  policy,  he  turned  his 
eye  with  a  significance  of  expression,  full  of  prophetic  revelation 
upon  the  Yice-President,  reminding  him  that  those  who  had  foully 
removed  Banquo  had  placed 

"  A  barren  sceptre  in  their  gripe, 
Thence  to  be  wrenched  by  an  unlineal  hand, 
No  son  of  theirs  succeeding." 

Every  eye  of  the  whole  audience  followed  the  direction  of  his  own 

and  witnessed  the  changing  countenance  and  visible  agitation  of 

Mr.  Calhoun. 

Surely,   no  prediction  ever  met  a  more  rapid  or  fuller  confirm 
ation,  even  to  the  very  manner  in  which  the  disaster  was  accom- 


17 

plished.  Within  a  few  brief  months,  the  political  fortunes  of  the 
Vice-President,  at  this  moment  seemingly  on  the  very  point  of 
culmination,  had  sunk  so  low,  there  were  none  so  poor  to  do  him 
reverence. 

Whether  for  a  moment  a  presentiment  of  the  approaching  crisis 
in  his  fate,  forced  upon  his  mind  by  the  manner  and  language  of 
the  speaker,  cast  a  gloom  over  his  countenance  or  some  other 
cause,  it  is  impossible  to  say ;  but  his  brow  grew  dark,  nor  for 
some  time  did  his  features  recover  their  usual  impassibility. 

The  allusion  nettled  him, — the  more  as  he  could  not  but  witness 
the  effect  it  produced  upon  others — and  made  him  restless.  He 
seemed  to  seek  an  opportunity  to  break  in  upon  the  speaker  ;  and 
later  in  the  day,  as  Mr.  Webster  was  exposing  the  gross  and  ludi 
crous  inconsistencies  of  South  Carolina  politicians,  upon  the  subject 
of  Internal  Improvements,  he  interrupted  him  with  some  eagerness  : 
"  Does  the  chair  understand  the  gentleman  from  Massachusetts  to 
say  that  the  person  now  occupying  the  chair  of  the  Senate  has 
changed  his  opinions  on  this  subject  ? "  To  this,  Mr.  Webster 
replied  immediately,  and  good-naturedly  :  "  From  nothing  ever  said 
to  me,  sir,  have  I  had  reason  to  know  of  any  change  in  the  opin 
ions  of  the  person  filling  the  chair  of  the  Senate.  If  such  change 
has  taken  place,  I  regret  it."  * 

Those  who  had  doubted  Mr.  Webster's  ability  to  cope  with  and 
overcome  his  opponents  were  fully  satisfied  of  their  error  before 
he  had  proceeded  far  in  his  speech.  Their  fears  soon  took  another 


*  Mr.  Calhoun's  interruption  was  un-Parliamentary,  or  rather,  un-SenatoriaL  The 
Vice-President  is  not  a  member  of  the  Senate,  and  has  no  voice  in  it  save  for  the 
preservation  of  order  and  enforcement  of  the  rules.  He  cannot  participate  otherwise 
either  in  the  debates  or  proceedings.  He  is  simply  the  presiding  officer  of  the  Senate 
—  having  no  vote  in  its  affairs  save  on  a  tie.  Had  Mr.  Webster  made  a  direct, 
unmistakable  allusion  to  him,  Mr.  Calhoon  still  could  have  replied  through  a  friendly 
Senator,  or  the  press.  On  this  occasion  he  was  too  much  excited  to  attend  to  the 
etiquette  of  his  position.  His  feelings  and  his  interest  in  the  question  made  him 
forgetful  of  his  duty. 
2 


18 

direction.  When  they  heard  his  sentences  of  powerful  thought, 
towering  in  accumulative  grandeur,  one  above  the  other,  as  if  the 
orator  strove,  Titan  like,  to  reach  the  very  heavens  themselves, 
they  were  giddy  with  an  apprehension  that  he  would  break  down 
in  his  flight.  They  dared  not  believe,  that  genius,  learning,  any 
intellectual  endowment  however  uncommon,  that  was  simply 
mortal,  could  sustain  itself  long  in  a  career  seemingly  so  perilous. 
They  feared  an  Icarian  fall. 

Ah  f  who  can  ever  forget,  that  was  present  to  hear,  the  tremen 
dous,  the  awful  burst  of  eloquence  with  which  the  orator  spoke  of 
the  Old  Bay  State  !  or  the  tones  of  deep  pathos  in  which  the 
words  were  pronounced : 

"  Mr.  President,  I  shall  enter  on  no  encomium  upon  Massachu 
setts.  There  she  is — behold  her,  and  judge  for  yourselves.  There 
is  her  history  :  the  world  knows  it  by  heart.  The  past,  at  least,  is 
secure.  There  is  Boston,  and  Concord,  and  Lexington,  and 
Bunker  Hill — and  there  they  will  remain  forever.  The  bones  of 
her  sons,  falling  in  the  great  struggle  for  independence,  now  lie 
mingled  with  the  soil  of  every  State,  from  New  England  to  Georgia  ; 
and  there  they  will  lie  forever.  And,  sir,  where  American  Liberty 
raised  its  first  voice ;  and  where  its  youth  was  nurtured  and  sus 
tained,  there  it  still  lives,  in  the  strength  of  its  manhood  and  full  of 
its  original  spirit.  If  discord  and  disunion  shall  wound  it — if  party 
strife  and  blind  ambition  shall  hawk  at  and  tear  it — if  folly  and 
madness — if  uneasiness  under  salutary  and  necessary  restraint — 
shall  succeed  to  separate  it  from  that  Union,  by  which  alone  its 
existence  is  made  sure,  it  will  stand  in  the  end,  by  the  side  of  that 


Sometime  later  than  this,  after  a  rupture  had  taken  place  between  Gen.  Jackson 
and  himself,  Mr.  Forsyth,  of  Georgia,  on  being  interrupted  by  some  (as  he  thought) 
uncalled  for  question  or  remark,  rebuked  him  in  an  emphatic  manner  for  violation 
of  official  etiquetU.  Mr.  Van  Buren,  who  ousted  and  succeeded  him,  always  remained 
silent,  placid,  imperturbable  in  his  seat,  however  personal  or  severe  the  attack  upon 
him  ; — and  no  Vice- President  since  his  day  has  ever  attempted  to  interfere  with  the 
discussions  of  the  Senate. 


19 

cradle  in  which  its  infancy  was  rocked :  it  will  stretch  forth  its 
arm  with  whatever  of  vigor  it  may  still  retain,  over  the  friends  who 
gather  round  it ;  and  it  will  fall  at  last,  if  fall  it  must,  amidst  the 
proudest  monuments  of  its  own  glory,  and  on  the  very  spot  of  its 
origin." 

What  New  England  heart  was  there  but  throbbed  with  vehe 
ment,  tumultuous,  irrepressible  emotion,  as  he  dwelt  upon  New 
England  sufferings,  New  England  struggles,  and  New  England 
triumphs,  during  the  war  of  the  Revolution  ?  There  was  scarcely 
a  dry  eye  in  the  Senate ;  all  hearts  were  overcome ;  grave  judges 
and  men  grown  old  in  dignified  life  turned  aside  their  heads,  to 
conceal  the  evidences  of  their  emotion.* 

In  one  corner  of  the  gallery  was  clustered  a  group  of  Massachu 
setts  men.  They  had  hung  from  the  first  moment  upon  the  words 
of  the  speaker,  with  feelings  variously  but  always  warmly  excited, 
deepening  in  intensity  as  he  proceeded.  At  first,  while  the  orator 
was  going  through  his  exordium,  they  held  their  breath  and  hid 
their  faces,  mindful  of  the  savage  attack  upon  him  and  New  Eng 
land,  and  the  fearful  odds  against  him,  her  champion ; — as  he  went 
deeper  into  his  speech,  they  felt  easier ;  when  he  turned  Hayne's 
flank  on  Banquo's  ghost,  they  breathed  freer  and  deeper.  But 
now,  as  he  alluded  to  Massachusetts,  their  feelings  were  strained 
to  the  highest  tension  ;  and  when  the  orator,  concluding  his  enco 
mium  upon  the  land  of  their  birth,  turned,  intentionally,  or  otherwise, 
his  burning  eye  fell  upon  them — they  shed  tears  like  girls. 

No  one  who  was  not  present  can  understand  the  excitement  of 
the  scene.     No  one,  who  was,  can  give  an  adequate  description  of 
it.     No  word-painting  can  convey  the  deep,  intense  enthusiasm, 
— the  reverential  attention,    of   that  vast  assembly — nor   limner, 
transfer  to  canvass  their  earnest,  eager,  awe-struck  countenances. 


*  Gen.  "Washington  said  that  the  New  England  troops  came  better  clothed  into 
the  field,  were  as  orderly  there,  and  fought  as  well,  if  not  better,  than  any  troops  on 
the  continent 


20 

Though  language  were  as  subtile  and  flexible  as  thought,  it  still 
would  be  impossible  to  represent  the  full  idea  of  the  scene.  There 
is  something  intangible  in  an  emotion,  which  cannot  be  transferred. 
The  nicer  shades  of  feeling  elude  pursuit.  Every  description, 
therefore,  of  the  occasion,  seems  to  the  narrator  himself  most  tame, 
spiritless,  unjust. 

Much  of  the  instantaneous  effect  of  the  speech  arose,  of  course, 
from  the  orator's  delivery — the  tones  of  his  voice,  his  countenance, 
and  manner.*  These  die  mostly  with  the  occasion  that  calls  them 
forth — the  impression  is  lost  in  the  attempt  at  transmission  from 
one  mind  to  another.  They  can  oiJy  be  described  in  general 
terms.  "  Of  the  effectiveness  of  Mr.  Webster's  manner,  in  many 
parts,"  says  Mr.  Everett,  "  it  would  be  in  vain  to  attempt  to  give 
any  one  not  present  the  faintest  idea.  It  has  been  my  fortune  to  hear 
some  of  the  ablest  speeches  of  the  greatest  living  orators  on  both 
sides  of  the  water,  but  I  must  confess,  I  never  heard  anything 
which  so  completely  realized  my  conception  of  what  Demosthenes 
was  when  he  delivered  the  Oration  for  the  Crown." 

Assuredly,  Kean  nor  Kemble,  nor  any  other  masterly  delineator 
of  the  human  passions  ever  produced  a  more  powerful  impression 
upon  an  audience,  or  swayed  so  completely  their  hearts.  This 
was  acting — not  to  the  life,  but  life  itself. 

*  The  personal  appearance  of  Mr.  "Webster  has  been  a  theme  of  frequent  discus 
sion.  He  was  at  the  time  this  speech  was  delivered  twenty  years  younger  than 
now.  Time  had  not  thinned  nor  bleached  his  hair  :  it  was  as  dark  as  the  raven's 
plumage,  surmounting  his  massive  brow,  in  ample  folds.  His  eye,  always  dark  and 
deep-set,  enkindled  by  some  glowing  thought,  shone  from  beneath  his  sombre,  over* 
hanging  brow  like  lights,  in  the  blackness  of  night,  from  a  sepulchre.  It  was  such  a 
countenance  as  Salvator  Rosa  delighted  to  paint 

No  one  understood,  or  understands,  better  that  Mr.  "Webster  the  philosophy  of 
dress  :  what  a  powerful  auxiliary  it  is  to  speech  and  manner,  when  harmonizing 
with  them.  On  this  occasion  he  appeared  in  a  blue  coat  and  buff  vest, — the  Revo 
lutionary  colors  of  buff  and  blue ; — with  a  white  cravat,  a  costume,  than  which  none 
is  more  becoming  to  his  face  and  expression.  This  courtly  particularity  of  dress  adds 
no  little  to  the  influence  of  his  manner  and  appearance. 


21 

No  one  ever  looked  the  orator,  as  he  did — "  ot  humerosque  deo 
similis"  in  form  and  feature  how  like  a  god.  His  countenance* 
spake  no  less  audibly  than  his  wor.ds.  His  manner  gave  new  force 
to  his  language.  As  he  stood  swaying  his  right  arm,  like  a  huge 
tilt-hammer,  up  and  down,  his  swarthy  countenance  lighted  up  with 
excitement,  he  appeared  amid  the  smoke,  the  fire,  the  thunder  of 
his  eloquence,  like  Vulcan  in  his  armory  forging  thoughts  for  the 
Gods! 

The  human  face  never  wore  an  expression  of  more  withering, 
relentless  scorn,  than  when  the  orator  replied  to  Hayne's  allusion 
to  the  "  murdered  coalition."  "  It  is,"  said  Mr.  W.,  "  the  very 
cast-off  slough  of  a  polluted  and  shameless  press.  Incapable  of 
further  mischief,  it  lies  in  the  sewer,  lifeless  and  despised.  It  is  not 
now,  sir,  in  the  power  of  the  honorable  member  to  give  it  dignity 
or  decency,  by  attempting  to  elevate  it,  and  introduce  it  into  the 
Senate.  He  cannot  change  it  from  what  it  is — an  object  of  general 
disgust  and  scorn.  On  the  contrary,  the  contact,  if  he  choose  to 
touch  it,  is  more  likely  to  drag  him  down,  down  to  the  place 
where  it  lies  itself."  He  looked,  as  he  spoke  these  words,  as  if  the 
thing  he  alluded  to  was  too  mean  for  scorn  itself — and  the  sharp, 
stinging  enunciation  made  the  words  still  more  withering.  The 
audience  seemed  relieved, — so  crushing  was  the  expression  of  his 
face  which  they  held  on  to,  as  'twere,  spell-bound, — when  he  turned 
to  other  topics. 

The  good-natured  yet  provoking  irony  with  which  he  described 
the  imaginary  though  life-like  scene  of  direct  collision  between  the 
marshalled  array  of  South  Carolina  under  Gen.  Hayne  on  the  one 
side,  and  the  officers  of  the  United  States  on  the  other,  nettled  his 
opponent  even  more  than  his  severer  satire ;  it  seemed  so  ridicu 
lously  true.  Col.  Hayne  enquired,  with  some  degree  of  emotion,  if 
the  gentleman  from  Massachusetts  intended  any  personal  imputa 
tion  by  such  remarks  ?  To  which  Mr.  Webster  replied,  with 
perfect  good  humor  :  "  Assuredly  not — just  the  reverse." 

The  variety  of  incident  during  the  speech,  and  the  rapid  fluctu- 


22 

ation  of  passions,  kept  the  audience  in  continual  expectation,  and 
ceaseless  agitation.  There  was  no  chord  of  the  heart  the  orator 
did  not  strike,  as  with  a  master- hand.  The  speech  was  a  complete 
drama  of  comic  and  pathetic  scenes ;  one  varied  excitement ; 
laughter  and  tears  gaining  alternate  victory. 

;  A  great  portion  of  the  speech  is  strictly  argumentative;  an 
exposition  of  constitutional  law.  But  grave  as  such  portion 
necessarily  is,  severely  logical,  abounding  in  no  fancy  or  episode, 
it  engrossed  throughout  the  undivided  attention  of  every  intelligent 
hearer.  Abstractions,  under  the  glowing  genius  of  the  orator, 
acquired  a  beauty,  a  vitality,  a  power  to  thrill  the  blood  and 
nkiridle  the  affections,  awakening  into  earnest  activity  many  a 
dormant  faculty.  His  ponderous  syllables  had  an  energy,  a  vehe 
mence  of  meaning  in  them  that  fascinated,  while  they  startled.  His 
thoughts  in  their  statuesque  beauty  merely  would  have  gained  all 
critical  judgment ;  but  he  realized  the  antique  fable,  and  warmed  the 
marble  into  life.  There  was  a  sense  of  power  in  his  language, — 
of  power  withheld  and  suggestive  of  still  greater  power, — that 
subdued,  as  by  a  spell  of  mystery,  the  hearts  of  all.  For  power, 
whether  intellectual  or  physical,  produces  in  its  earnest  develop 
ment  a  feeling  closely  allied  to  awe.  It  was  never  more  felt  than 
on  this  occasion.  It  had  entire  mastery.  The  sex,  which  is  said 
to  love  it  best  and  abuse  it  most,  seemed  as  much  or  more  carried 
away  that  the  sterner  one.  Many  who  had  entered  the  hall  with 
light,  gay  thoughts,  anticipating  at  most  a  pleasurable  excitement, 
soon  became  deeply  interested  in  the  speaker  and  his  subject — sur 
rendered  him  their  entire  heart ;  and,  when  the  speech  was  over,  and 
they  left  the  hall,  it  was  with  sadder,  perhaps,  but,  surely,  with  far 
more  elevated  and  ennobling  emotions. 

The  exulting  rush  of  feeling  with  which  he  went  through  the 
peroration  threw  a  glow  over  his  countenance,  like  inspiration. 
Eye,  brow,  each  feature,  every  line  of  the  face  seemed  touched,  as 
with  a  celestial  fire.  All  gazed  as  at  something  more  than  human. 
So  Moses  might  have  appeared  to  the  awe-struck  Israelites  as  he 


23 

emerged  from  the  dark  clouds  and  thick  smoke  of  Sinai,  his  face 
all  radiant  with  the  breath  of  divinity  ! 

The  swell  and  roll  of  his  voice  struck  upon  the  ears  of  the  spell 
bound  audience,  in  deep  and  melodious  cadence,  as  waves  upon 
the  shore  of  the  "far  resounding"  sea.  The  Miltonic  grandeur  of 
his  words  was  the  fit  expression  of  his  thought  and  raised  his 
hearers  up  to  his  theme.  His  voice,  exerted  to  its  utmost  power, 
penetrated  every  recess  or  corner  of  the  Senate — penetrated  even 
the  ante-rooms  and  stairways  as  he  pronounced  in  deepest  tones  of 
pathos  these  words  of  solemn  significance  :  "  When  my  eyes  shall 
be  turned  to  behold,  for  the  last  time,  the  sun  in  heaven,  may  I  not 
see  him  shining  on  the  broken  and  dishonored  fragments  of  a  once 
glorious  Union  ;  on  States  dissevered,  discordant,  belligerent !  on  a 
land  rent  with  civil  feuds,  or  drenched,  it  may  be,  in  fraternal 
blood  !  Let  their  last  feeble  and  lingering  glance  rather  behold  the 
gorgeous  ensign  of  the  Republic,  now  known  and  honored 
throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high  advanced,*  its  arms  and  trophies 
streaming  in  their  original  lustre,  not  a  stripe  erased  nor  polluted, 
not  a  single  star  obscured,  bearing  for  its  motto  no  such  miserable 
interrogatory  as,  "  What  is  all  this  worth  ? "  Nor  those  other 
words  of  delusion  and  folly,  Liberty  first,  and  Union  afterwards  ; 
but  everywhere,  spread  all  over  in  characters  of  living  light,  bla- 


*  Mr.  Webster  may  have  had  in  his  mind,  when  speaking  of  the  gorgeous  ensign 
of  the  Republic,  Milton's  description  of  the  imperial  banner  in  the  lower  regions 
floating  across  the  immensity  of  space  : 

"  Who  forthwith  from  the  glittering  staff  unfurl'd 
The  imperial  ensign  ;  which,./?*//  high  advanced 
Shone  like  a  meteor  streaming  to  the  wind, 
With  gems  and  golden  lustre  rich  imblaz'd, 
Seraphic  arms  and  trophies ;  all  the  while 
Sonorous  metal  blowing  martial  sounds  :  " 

And  this  in  its  turn  is  borrowed  from,  or  suggested  by,  Tasso's  description  of  the 
banner  of  the  Crusades,  when  first  unfolded  in  Palestine— which  the  inquisitive  reader 
may  find,  if  he  choose,  in  "  Jerusalem  Delivered. 


24 

zing  on  all  its  ample  folds,  as  they  float  over  the  sea  and  over  the 
land,  and  in  every  wind  under  the  whole  heavens,  that  other  sen 
timent,  dear  to  every  American  heart,  "  LIBERTY  AND  UNION,  NOW 

AND    FOREVER,    ONE    AND    INSEPARABLE!" 

The  speech  was  over,  but  the  tones  of  the  orator  still  lingered 
upon  the  ear,  and  the  audience,  unconscious  of  the  close,  retained 
their  positions.  The  agitated  countenance,  the  heaving  breast,  the 
suffused  eye  attested  the  continued  influence  of  the  spell  upon 
them.  Hands  that  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment  had  sought 
each  other,  still  remained  closed  in  an  unconscious  grasp.  Eye 
still  turned  to  eye,  to  receive  and  repay  mutual  sympathy  ; — and 
everywhere  around  seemed  forgetfulness  of  all  but  the  orator's 
presence  and  words. 

When  the  Vice-President,  hastening  to  dissolve  the  spell,  angrily 
called  to  order !  order !  There  never  was  a  deeper  stillness — not  a 
movement,  not  a  gesture  had  been  made, — not  a  whisper  uttered — 
order  !  Silence  could  almost  have  heard  itself,  it  was  so  superna- 
turally  still.  The  feeling  was  too  overpowering,  to  allow  expression 
by  voice  or  hand.  It  was  as  if  one  was  in  a  trance,  all  motion 
paralyzed. 

But  the  descending  hammer  of  the  Chair  awoke  them,  with  a 
start — and  with  one  universal,  long-drawn,  deep  breath,  with  which 
the  overcharged  heart  seeks  relief, — the  crowded  assembly  broke 
up  and  departed. 

The  New  England  men  walked  down  Pennsylvania  avenue  that 
day,  after  the  speech,  with  a  firmer  step  and  bolder  air — "  pride  in 
their  port,  defiance  in  their  eye."  You  would  have  sworn  th^y 
had  grown  some  inches  taller  in  a  few  hours'  time.  They  devoured 
the  way,  in  their  stride.  They  looked  every  one  in  the  face  they 
met,  fearing  no  contradiction.  The/  swarmed  in  the  streets, 
naving  become  miraculously  multitudinous.  They  clustered  in 
parties  and  fought  the  scene  over  one  hundred  times  that  night. 


25 

Their  elation  was  the  greater,  by  reaction,  It  knew  no  limits,  or 
choice  of  expression.  Not  one  of  them  but  felt  he  had  gained  a 
personal  victory.  Not  one,  who  was  not  ready  to  exclaim,  with 
gushing  eyes,  in  the  fulness  of  gratitude,  "  Thank  God,  I  too  am  a 
Yankee!" 

In  the  evening  General  Jackson  held  a  levee  at  the  White  House. 
It  was  known,  in  advance,  that  Mr.  Webster  would  attend  it,  and 
hardly  had  the  hospitable  doors  of  the  house  been  thrown  open, 
when  the  crowd  that  had  filled  the  Senate  chamber  in  the  morning 
rushed  in  and  occupied  the  rooms.  Persons  a  little  more  tardy  in 
arriving  found  it  almost  impossible  to  get  in,  such  a  crowd  oppressed 
the  entrance. 

Before  this  evening,  the  General  had  been  the  observed  of  all 
observers.  His  military  and  personal  reputation,  official  position, 
gallant  bearing,  and  courteous  manners,  had  secured  him  great  and 
merited  popularity.  His  receptions  were  always  gladly  attended 
by  large  numbers — to  whom  he  was  himself  the  object  of 
attraction. 

But  on  this  occasion,  the  room  in  which  he  received  his  company 
was  deserted,  as  soon  as  courtesy  to  the  President  permitted.  Mr. 
Webster,  it  was  whispered,  was  in  the  East  Boom,  and  thither  the 
whole  mass  hurried. 

He  stood  almost  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  hemmed  in  by  eager 
crowds,  from  whom  there  was  no  escape,  all  pressing  to  get  nearer 
to  him.  He  seemed  but  little  exhausted  by  the  intellectual  exertion 
of  the  day,  severe  as  it  had  been.  The  flush  of  excitement  still 
lingered  and  played  upon  his  countenance,  gilding  and  beautifying 
it,  like  the  setting  sun  its  accompanying  clouds. 

All  were  eager  to  get  a  sight  at  him.  Some  stood  on  tip-toe,  and 
some  even  mounted  the  chairs  of  the  room.  Many  were  presented 
to  him.  The  dense  crowd,  entering  and  retiring,  moved  round 
him,  renewing  the  order  of  their  ingression  and  egression, 
continually.  One  would  ask  his  neighbor:  "Where,  which  is 
Webster  ?  " — "  There,  don't  you  see  him — that  dark,  swarthy  man, 


26 

with  a  great  deep  eye  and  heavy  brow — that's  Webster."     No  one 
was  obliged  to  make  a  second  inquiry. 

In  another  part  of  the  room  was  Col.  Hayne.  He  too,  had  had 
his  day  of  triumph,  and  received  congratulation.  His  friends  even 
now  contended  that  the  contest  was  but  a  drawn-battle,  no  full 
victory  having  been  achieved  on  either  side.  There  was  nothing 
in  bis  own  appearance  this  evening  to  indicate  the  mortification 
of  defeat.  With  others,  he  went  up  and  complimented  Mr. 
Webster  on  his  brilliant  effort*  ;  and  no  one,  ignorant  of  the  past 
struggle,  could  have  supposed  that  they  had  late  been  engaged 
in  such  fierce  rivalry. 

Mr.  Webster  is  declared  by  all  who  knew  him  intimately,  to  be 
in  private  conversation  one  of  the  most  entertaining  and  instructive 
of  companions.  He  had  a  great  fund  of  anecdotes  of  men  and 
events,  which  he  used  to  relate  with  inimitable  effect.  A  biogra 
pher  mentions,  among  others,  the  following : 

"  One  night,  before  railroads  were  built,  he  was  forced  to  make  a 
journey  by  private  conveyance  from  Baltimore  to  Washington. 
The  man  that  drove  the  wagon,  was  such  an  ill-looking  fellow,  and 
told  so  many  stories  of  robberies  and  murders,  that,  before  they  had 
gone  far,  Mr.  Webster  was  somewhat  alarmed.     At  last  the  wagon 
stopped,  in  the  midst  of  a  dense  wood,  when  the  man,  turning  sud 
denly  round  to  his  passenger,  exclaimed  fiercely,  '  Now,  sir,  tell  me 
who  you  are  ? '     Mr.  Webster  replied,  in  a  faltering  voice,   and 
ready  to  spring  from  the  vehicle,  '  I  am  Daniel  Webster,  member 
of  Congress,  from  Massachusetts!'     'What,  rejoined   the  driver, 
\  grasping  him  warmly  by  the  hand,  '  are  you  Webster !  Thank  God  ! 
I  thank  God !  You  were  such  an  ugly  chap,  that  I  took  you  for  a 
I  highwayman/     This  is  the  substance  of  the  story,  but  the  precise 

\It  was  said  at  the  time,  that,  as  Col.  Hayne  approached  Mr.  "Webster  to  tender  his 
congratulations,  the  latter  accosted  him  with  the  usual  courtesy,  "How  are  you, 
this  evening,  Col.  Hayne  ?  "  and  that  CoL  Hayne  replied,  good-humoredly,"  "Nona 
the  better  for  you,  sir  ?  " 


words  used  by  Mr.  Webster  himself,  can  not  be  recalled,  nor  the 
inimitable  bonhommie  with  which  it  was  related  by  him." 

When  entertaining  a  party  at  dinner  or  holding  a  levee,  Mr. 
Webster  always  looked  the  gentleman  superbly ;  when  out  on  a 
fishing  excursion,  he  could  not  be  taken  for  anything  but  an  angler ; 
and  when  on  a  shooting  frolic,  he  was  a  genuine  rustic  Nimrod. 
And  hereby  hangs  an  incident.  /He  was  once  tramping  over  the 
Marshfield  meadows,  shooting  ducks,  when  .he  encountered  a  couple 
of  Boston  sporting  snobs,  who  happened  to  be  in  trouble  just 
then  about  crossing  a  bog.  Not  knowing  Mr.  Webster,  and  believ 
ing  him  to  be  strong  enough  to  help  them  over  the  water,  they 
begged  to  be  conveyed  to  a  dry  point  upon  his  back.  The  request 
was  of  course  complied  with,  and  after  the  cockneys  had  paid  him 
a  quarter  of  a  dollar  each  for  his  trouble,  they  inquired  if  '  Old 
Webster  was  at  home/  for  as  they  had  had  poor  luck  in  shooting, 
they  would  honor  him  with  a  call.  Mr.  Webster  replied,  '  that  the 
gentleman  alluded  to  was  not  at  home  just  then,  but  would  be  as 
soon  as  he  could  walk  to  the  house,'  and  added,  that  he  would  be 
glad  to  see  them  at  dinner.'  As  may  be  presumed,  the  cockneys 
were  never  seen  to  cross  the  threshold  of  '  Old  Webster.'  "\ 

"Two  hours  before  he  was  to  appear  before  the  most  magnificent 
of  audiences,  on  the  occasion  of  his  last  speech  in  New  York,  at 
Niblo's  saloon,  Mr.  Webster  was  telling  stories  at  his  dinner-table, 
as  unconcernedly  as  if  he  was  only  intending  to  take  his  usual 
nap.  On  being  questioned  as  to  what  he  proposed  to  say,  he 
remarked  as  iollows :  '  I  am  going  to  be  excessively  learned  and 
classical,  and  shall  talk  much  about  the  older  citizens  of  Greece. 
When  I  make  my  appearance  in  Broadway  to-morrow,  people  will 
accost  me  thus — Good  morning  Mr.  WEBSTER.  Recently  from 
Greece,  1  understand.  How  did  you  leave  Mr.  PERICLES  and 
Mr.  ARISTOPHANES  ?' 

The  following  is  one  among  the  many  New  Hampshire  anecdotes 
which  Mr.  Webster  was  in  the  habit  of  occasionally  narrating  to 
his  friends.  It  is  given  in  nearly  the  narrator's  own  words  : 


28 

"  Soon  after  commencing  the  practice  of  my  profession  at  Ports 
mouth,  I  was  waited  on  by  an  old  acquaintance  of  my  father's, 
resident  in  an  adjacent  county,  who  wished  to  engage  my  profes 
sional  services.  Some  years  previous,  he  had  rented  a  farm,  with 
the  clear  understanding  that  he  could  purchase  it,  after  the  expi 
ration  of  his  lease,  for  one  thousand  dollars.  Finding  the  soil  pro 
ductive,  he  soon  determined  to  own  it,  and  as  he  laid  aside  money 
for  the  purchase,  he  was  prompted  to  improve  what  he  felt  certain 
he  would  possess.  But  his  landlord  finding  the  property  greatly 
increased  in  value,  coolly  refused  to  receive  the  one  thousand 
dollars,  when  in  due  time  it  was  presented ;  and  when  his  extortion 
ate  demand  of  double  that  sum  was  refused,  he  at  once  brought  an 
action  of  ejectment.  The  man  had  but  the  one  thousand  dollars, 
and  an  unblemished  reputation,  yet  I  willingly  undertook  the 
case.  * 

"  The  opening  argument  of  the  plaintiffs  attorney  left  me  little 
ground  for  hope.  He  stated  that  he  could  prove  that  my  client 
hired  the  farm,  but  there  was  not  a  word  in  the  lease  about  the 
sale,  nor  was  there  a  word  spoken  about  the  sale  when  the 
lease  was  signed,  as  he  should  prove  by  a  witness.  In  short,  his 
was  a  clear  case,  and  I  left  -the  court-room  at  dinner  time  with 
feeble  hopes  of  success.  By  chance,  I  sat  at  the  table  next  a 
newly-commissioned  militia  officer,  and  a  brother-lawyer  began  to 
joke  him  about  his  lack  of  martial  knowledge ;  '  Indeed,'  he  jocosely 

remarked,   'you  should  write  down  the  orders,  and  get  old  W 

to  beat  them  into  your  sconce,  as  I  saw  him  this  morning,  with  a 

paper  in  his  hand,  teaching  something  to  young  M in  the  court 

house  entry." 

"  Can  it  be,  I  thought,  that  old  W ,  the  plaintiff  in  the  case, 

was  instructing  young  M ,  who  was  his  reliable  witness  ? 

"  After  dinner,  the  court  was  re-opened,  and  M was  put  on 

the  stand.  He  was  examined  by  the  plaintiffs  counsel,  and  cer 
tainly  told  a  clear,  plain  story,  repudiating  all  knowledge  of  any 
agreement  to  sell.  When  he  had  concluded,  the  opposite  counsel 


29 

with  a  triumphant  glance  turned  to  me,  and  asked  me  if  I  was 
satisfied?  'Not  quite/  I  replied. 

"  I  had  noticed  a  piece  of  paper,  protruding  from  M 's  pocket, 

and  hastily  approaching  him.  I  seized  it  before  he  had  the  least 
idea  of  my  intention.  '  Now,'  1  asked.  '  tell  me  if  this  paper  does 
not  detail  the  story  you  have  so  clearly  told,  and  is  it  not  false?  ' 
The  witness  hung  his  head  with  shame  ;  and  when  the  paper  was 
found  to  be  wnat  1  nad  supposed,  and  in  the  very  hand 
writing  of  old  W .  he  lost  his  case  at  once.  Nay,  there  was 

such  a  storm  of  indignation  against  him,  that  he  soon  removed  to 
the  West. 

"  Years  afterwards,  visiting  New  Hampshire,  I  was  the  guest  of 
my  professional  brethren  at  a  public  dinner ;  and  toward  the  close 
of  the  festivities,  I  was  asked  if  I  would  solve  a  great  doubt  by 
antwering  a  question  '  Certainly.'  '  Well  then,  Mr.  Webster, 

we  have  often  wondered  how  you  knew  what  was  in  M 's 

pocket.' " 

Of  Mr.  Webster's  life  it  may  be  said,  "  that  nothing  became  it 
more "  than  the  manner  in  which  he  consigned  it  to  "  the  God 
who  gave  it."  A  lover  and  a  habitual  reader  of  the  Bible,  he 
derived  in  his  dying  hours  his  chiefest  support  from  the  divine 
consolations  which  its  teachings  afford.  The  "  rod  and  the  staff" 
of  the  Almighty  were  his  support,  as  he  entered  upon  the  valley  of 
the  shadow  of  death.  He  who  never  while  living  spake  or  thought, 
save  with  awful  reverence,  of  the  power  and  presence  of  God, 
went  calmly  to  meet  his  Maker  in  the  world  beyond  the  grave. 
His  profound  intellect  was  clear,  serene,  unclouded  to  the  last, 
triumphing  over  all  the  infirmities  of  physical  decay.  In  the 
sententious  and  beautiful  words  of  another,  "  We  see,  in  his 
deportment  at  the  hour  of  his  last  great  trial,  the  graceful  submis 
sion  of  a  truly  majestic  nature.  We  behold  a  lofty  and 
commanding  intellect  becoming  obedient  to  the  summons  which 
ordered  him  from  a  world  he  loved  but  too  well,  forgetting  none  of 
the  duties,  the  demands  or  the  proprieties  of  mortal  existence  about 


30 

to  close.  His  life  did  not  end  as  the  lives  of  most  end,  with 
thoughts  of  self  merely,  or  struggles  to  forget  self.  He  recognized 
the  condition  of  those  friends  he  was  about  to  leave  behind  him, 
with  a  singular  mixture  of  consideration,  tenderness,  and  collected- 
ness  of  soul.  He  was  not  only  cool  and  self-possessed  himself,  his 
vigorous  spirit  even  buoyed  up  and  animated  those  who  surrounded 
him  in  his  last  moments.  He  recognized  his  own  condition  in  the 
same  spirit  of  philosophic  and  self-sustaining  contemplation.  He 
looked  steadfastly  in  the  face  of  the  grim  messenger,  and  calmly 
held  out  the  hand  of  recognition  as  he  approached.  He  accompa 
nied  him  without  a  shudder  within  the  gates  of  eternity,  which 
swung  wide  to  receive  him.  He  passed  the  threshold  with  a 
tranquil  majesty,  casting  upon  the  world  a  last  look  which  was  at 
once  his  calmest  and  noblest."  Like  the  sun  itself,  he  "Shone 
largest  at  his  setting."  « 

His  resting  place  is  where  it  should  be ;  in  the  fields  whicn  he  has 
tilled  ;  near  the  haunts  alike  of  his  hours  of  sublime  contemplation, 
and  his  brighter  and  more  genial  moods ;  within  sight  of  the 
window  from  which  he  looked,  in  the  pauses  of  his  study,  upon  the 
white  tomb-stones  which  he  had  placed  over  his  family — all  but  one 
gone  before ! 

"  It  is  alLpyer !  The  last  struggle  is  past ;  the  struggle,  the  strife, 
the  anxiety,  the  pain,  the  turmoil  of  life  is  over  :  the  tale  is  told, 
and  finished,  and  ended.  It  is  told  and  done ;  and  the  seal  of  death 
is  set  upon  it.  Henceforth  that  great  life,  marked  at  every  step  ! 
chronicled  in  journals ;  waited  on  by  crowds  ;  told  to  the  whole 
country  by  telegraphic  tongues  of  flames — that  great  life  shall  be 
but  a  history,  a  biography,  '  a  tale  told  in  an  evening  tent.'  In  the 
tents  of  life  it  shall  long  be  recited ;  but  no  word  shall  reach  the 
ear  of  that  dead  sleeper  by  the  ocean  shore.  Fitly  will  he  rest 
there.  Like  the  granite  rock,  like  the  heaving  ocean,  was  his  mind  ! 
Let  the  rock  guard  his  rest :  let  the  ocean  sound  his  dirge  !  " 


ILLNESS    AND   DEATH. 


Mr.  WEBSTER  died  at  Marshfield,  on  Sunday  morning,  October 
24th,  1852. 

His  health  as  has  been  intimated,  had  failed  during  the  summer 
from  his  severe  public  labors  and  from  the  progress  of  an  obscure 
disease  in  the  liver  of  long  standing,  accelerated,  no  doubt,  by  the 
shock  which  his  whole  system  had  received  when  he  was  thrown 
from  his  carriage  in  the  preceding  May.  He  was  aware  of  his  decline, 
and  watched  it  with  a  careful  observation ;  frequently  giving  intima 
tions  to  those  nearest  to  him  of  the  failure  in  strength  which  he 
noticed,  and  of  the  result  which  he  apprehended  must  be  approach 
ing.  Towards  the  end  of  September  he  seemed,  indeed,  to  rally 
a  little  ;  but  it  wras  soon  apparent  to  others,  no  less  than  to  himself, 
that,  as  the  days  passed  on,  each  brought  with  it  some  slight  proof 
of  a  gradual  decay  in  his  bodily  powers  and  rescources. 

On  Sunday  evening,  October  10,  he  desired  a  fiiend,  who  was 
sitting  with  him,  to  read  to  him  the  passage  in  the  ninth  chapter  of 
St.  Mark's  Gospel,  where  the  man  brings  his  child  to  Jesus  to  be 
cured,  and  the  Saviour  tells  him,  "  If  thou  canst  believe,  all  things 
are  possible  to  him  that  believeth  ;  and  straightway  the  father  of 
the  child  cried  out,  with  tears,  Lord,  I  believe,  help  thou  mine  unbe 
lief."  "  Now,"  he  continued,  "  turn  to  the  tenth  chapter  of  St. 
John,  and  read  from  the  verse  where  it  is  said,  *  Many  of  the  Jews 
believed  on  him.' "  After  this  he  dictated  a  few  lines,  and  directed 
them  to  be  signed  with  his  name  and  dated  Sunday  Evening,  Oct. 


32 

10,  1852.  "  This,"  he  then  added,  "  is  the  inscription  to  be  placed 
on  my  monument."  A  few  days  later, — on  the  15th, — he  recurred 
to  the  same  subject,  and  revised  and  corrected  with  his  own  hand 
what  he  had  earlier  dictated,  so  as  to  make  the  whole  read  as 
follows  : — 


"  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  them 
mine  unbelief." 


Philosophical 
argument,  especially 
that  drawn  from  the  vastness  of 
the  Universe,    in    comparison  with  the 
apparent  insignificance  of  thia  globe,  has  some 
times  shaken  my  reason  for  the  faith  which  is  in  me  ; 
but  my  heart  has  always  assured  and  reassured  me,  that  the 
Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  must  be  a  Divine  Reality.    The 
Sermon  on  the  Mount  cannot  be  a  merely  human 
production.    This  belief  enters  into  the 
very  depth  of  my  conscience. 
The  whole  history  of  man 
proves  it 

DANIEL 


When  he  first  dictated  this  inscription,  he  said  to  the  friend  \vho 
wrote  it  down — "  It  I  get  well,  and  write  a  book  on  Christianity, 
about  which  we  have  talked,  we  can  attend  more  fully  to  this 
matter.  But  if  I  should  be  taken  away  suddenly,  I  do  not  wish 
to  leave  any  duty  oi  this  kind  unperformed.  I  want  to  leave 
somewhere  a  declaration  of  my  belief  in  Christianity.  I  do  not 
wish  to  go  into  any  doctrinal  distinctions  in  regard  to  the  per 
son  of  Jesus  but  I  wish  to  express  my  belief  in  his  divine 
mission ;  "^solemn  and  remarkable  words,  by  which  it  is  plain 
that,  having  given  the  deliberate  testimony  of  his  life  to  the  truth 
of  Christianity,  as  a  miraculous  revelation  of  God's  will  to  man 
he  desired,  though  dead,  still  to  bear  the  same  testimony  from  his 


33 

grave  to  the  same  great  truth.  The  monument  on  which  he  in 
tended  this  striking  inscription  should  be  placed,  he  has  elsewhere 
directed  should  be  of  "  exactly  the  same  size  and  form  "  with  the 
modest  monuments  he  had  already  erected,  within  the  same 
inclosure,  for  his  children  and  for  their  mother. 

On  Tuesday,  the  19th  of  October,  he  was  too  feeble  to  appear  at 
the  dinner-table,  and  desired  that  his  son  might  take  his  place  at 
its  head,  till  he  should  be  able  again  to  go  down  stairs  ;  "or,"  he  added, 
"  until  I  give  it  up  to  him  altogether."  That  evening  was  the  last 
time  his  friends  had  the  happiness  to  see  him  in  his  accustomed 
seat  at  his  own  hospital  fire-side. 

Warned  by  his  increasing  debility  he  had  already  given  some 
directions  concerning  a  final  disposition  of  his  worldly  affairs ;  but 
he  now  desired  that  his  will  might  be  immediately  drawn  up  in  legal 
form,  and  the  next  day  he  dictated  a  considerable  portion  of  it  with 
great  precision  and  a  beautiful  appropriateness  of  phraseology. 
Some  of  its  directions  are  very  striking,  not  only  from  their  import, 
but  from  the  simplicity  with  which  their  meaning  is  set  forth : — 

"  I  wish  to  be  buried,"  he  says,  "  without  the  least  show  or  osten 
tation,  but  in  a  manner  respectful  to  my  neighbors,  whose  kindness 
has  contributed  so  much  to  the  happiness  of  me  and  mine,  and 
for  whose  prosperity  I  offer  sincere  prayers  to  God." 

After  this,  every  thing  relating  to  his  personal  concerns  is  wisely 
and  well  provided  for,  and  all  his  immediate  kindred  tenderly 
remembered.  He  then  goes  on  : — 

"  My  servant,  William  Johnson,  is  a  free  man.  I  bought  his 
freedom  not  long  ago  for  six  hundred  dollars.  No  demand  is  to 
be  made  upon  him  for  any  portion  of  this  sum ;  but,  so  long  as  is 
agreeable,  I  hope  he  will  remain  with  the  family.  Monicha 
McCarty,  Sarah  Smith,  and  Anna  Bean,  colored  persons,  now  also, 
and,  for  a  long  time,  in  my  service,  are  all  free.  They  are  very 
well-deserving,  and  whoever  comes  after  me,  must  be  kind  to  them." 

And  then  with  the  usual  legal  forms,  this  remarkable  and  char 
acteristic  document  is  closed. 
3 


34 

The  day  when  the  preparation  of  the  will  was  completed — • 
Thursday — was  one  in  which  Mr.  Webster  had  attended  to  much 
public  business,  besides  giving  his  usual  careful  directions  about 
every  thing  touching  his  household  and  his  large  estate.  It  was 
intended,  therefore,  to  postpone  the  final  signing  and  execution  of 
that  paper  until  the  next  morning ;  more  especially  as  his  forenoons 
were  uniformly  more  comfortable  than  the  later  portions  of  the 
day.  But,  in  the  afternoon,  his  complaint  assumed  a  new  and 
more  formidable  character.  Blood  was  suddenly  ejected  from  his 
stomach.  The  symptom  was  decisive.  He  fixed  an  intensely 
scrutinizing  look  upon  Dr.  Jeffries, — his  attending  physician  and 
personal  friend, — and  inquired  what  it  was  ?  He  was  ansvrered 
that  it  came  from  the  diseased  part.  "  What  is  it  ?  "  he  repeated 
with  the  same  piercing  look,  and  then,  without  waiting  for  a  reply, 
added,  "  That  is  the  enemy ; — if  you  can  conquer  that  " — he  was 
interrupted  by  a  recurrence  of  the  attack,  but  his  mind,  it  was 
obvious,  was  already  made  up.  He  knew  that  his  time  must  be 
short,  and  that  whatever  he  had  to  do  must  be  done  quickly. 

He  determined,  therefore,  at  once  to  execute  his  will.  It  was 
made  ready  and  brought  to  him.  He  ascertained  that  its  provis 
ions  and  arrangements  were  entirely  satisfactory  to  the  persons 
most  interested  in  them,  and  then,  having  signed  it  with  a  larger 
boldness  and  freedom  in  the  signature  than  was  common  to  him, 
he  folded  his  hands  together  and  said  solemnly,  "  I  thank  God  for 
strength  to  perform  a  sensible  act."  In  a  full  voice,  and  with  a 
most  reverential  manner  he  went  on  and  prayed  aloud  for  some 
minutes,  ending  with  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  the  ascription,  "And 
nowunto  God  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  be  praise 
forever  more.  Peace  on  earth,  and  good  will  towards  men  ;  " — 
after  which,  clasping  his  hands  together,  as  at  first,  he  added,  with 
great  emphasis, — "  That  is  the  happiness — the  essence — Good  will 
towards  men." 

Much  exhausted  with  the  effort,  he  desired  all  but  Dr.   Jeffries 
and  a  favorite  colored  nurse,  who  had  long  been  in  his  service,  to 


35 

leave  the  room,  that  he  might  rest.  But,  before  he  slept,  he  said, 
"  Doctor  you  look  sober.  You  think  I  shall  not  be  here  in  the 
morning.  But  I  shall.  I  shall  greet  the  morning  light." 

The  next  forenoon,  he  repeated  a  similar  assurance  to  his  kind 
and  faithful  physician,  who  as  he  thought,  again  looked  sad,  though 
he  was  only  overcome  with  fatigue  and  long  watching.  "  Cheer 
up,  Doctor — cheer  up — I  shall  not  die  to-day.  You  will  get  me 
along  to  day."  And  so  he  went  on  through  Friday,  giving  comfort 
and  kind  thoughts  to  all  who  surrounded  him.  In  the  course  of 
the  morning,  he  attended  to  the  public  business  that  needed  imme 
diate  care,  and  gave  directions  for  every  thing  about  his  farm  and 
household  as  usual,  and,  in  the  evening  sent  for  the  person 
who  managed  his  affairs,  and  directed  him,  with  more  than  his 
customary  exactness,  concerning  all  arrangements  for  the  next 
day. 

But  when  the  next  day — Saturday — came,  he  felt  as  he  had  not  felt 
before.  He  felt  that  it  was  his  last  day.  About  eight  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  therefore,  he  desired  that  all  in  the  room  should  leave 
it,  except  Doctor  Jeffries,  who  had  been  his  physician  for  a  long 
period,  and  who  had  now  been  in  constant  attendance  on  him 
living  in  the  house  for  above  a  week.  During  the  night  Mr.  Web 
ster  perceived  that  he  had  grown  weaker  by  excessive  loss  of  blood 
from  the  stomach.  He  had  just  suffered  afresh  in  the  same  way. 
But  when  he  was  certain  that  he  was  alone  with  his  professional 
adviser,  and  that  no  loving  ear  would  be  pained  by  what  he  should 
say,  he  spoke  in  a  perfectly  clear  and  even  voice,  but  with  much 
solemnity,  of  manner,  and  said,  "Doctor,  you  have  carried  me 
through  the  night.  I  think  you  will  get  me  through  the  day.  I 
shall  die  to-night."  The  faithful  physician,  much  moved,  said, 
after  a  pause,  "  You  are  right,  Sir."  Mr.  Webster  then  went  on  : 
— "  I  wish  you,  therefore,  to  send  an  express  to  Boston  for  some 
younger  person  to  be  with  you.  /  shall  die  to  night.  You  are 
exhausted,  and  must  be  relieved.  Who  shall  it  be  ?  "  Dr.  Jeffries 
suggested  a  professional  brother,  Dr.  J.  Mason  Warren,  adding  that 


36 

he  was  the  son  of  an  old  and  faithful  friend  of  Mr.  Webster.     Mr. 
Webster  replied  instantly,  "  Let  him  be  sent  for." 

Dr.  Jeffries  left  the  room  to  prepare  a  note  for  the  purpose,  and, 
on  returning,  found  that  Mr.  Webster  had  made  all  the  arrange 
ments  necessary  for  its  dispatch,  having  given  minute  directions 
who  should  go  ; — what  horse  and  what  vehicle  he  should  use ; — 
and  what  road  he  should  follow ; — where  he  should  take  a  fresh 
relay  ; — and  how  he  should  execute  his  errand  on  reaching 
the  city.  .  He  also  desired  that  some  provision  should  be  made  for 
summoning  some  other  professional  friend,  if  Dr.  Warren  could  not 
be  found,  or  could  not  come ;  and,  on  being  told  that  this,  too,  had 
been  foreseen  and  cared  for,  he  seemed  much  gratified,  and  said 
emphatically,  "Right,  right." 

After  some  repose,  he  conversed  with  Mrs.  Webster,  with  his  son, 
and  with  two  or  three  other  of  the  persons  nearest  and  dearest  to 
him  in  life,  in  the  most  affectionate  and  tender  manner,  not  con 
cealing  from  them  his  view  of  the  approach  of  death,  but  consol 
ing  them  with  religious  thoughts  and  assurances,  as  if  support 
were  more  needful  for  their  hearts  than  for  his  own.  On  different 
occasions,  in  the  course  of  the  day,  he  prayed  audibly.  Oftener, 
he  seemed  to  be  in  silent  prayer  and  meditation.  But,  at  all  times, 
he  was  quickly  attentive  to  whatever  was  doing  or  needed  to 
be  done.  He  gave  detailed  orders  for  the  adjustment  of  whatever 
in  his  affairs  required  it,  and  superintended  and  arranged  every 
thing  for  his  own  departure  from  life,  as  if  it  had  been  that  of 
another  person,  for  whom  it  was  his  duty  to  take  the  minutest  care. 

After  nightfall,  he  received  at  his  bed  side  each  member  of  his 
family  and  household,  the  friends  gathered  under  his  roof,  and  the 
servants,  most  of  whom  having  been  long  in  his  service  had 
become  to  him  as  affectionate  and  faithful  friends,  It  was  a 
solemn  and  religious  parting,  in  which,  while  all  around  him  were 
overwhelmed  with  sorrow,  he  preserved  his  accustomed  equanimity, 
speaking  to  each  words  of  appropriate  kindness  and  consolation 
which  they  will  treasure  hereafter  among  their  most  precious  and 
life-long  possessions. 


37 

During  the  whole  course  of  his  illness,  Mr.  Webster  never  spoke 
of  his  disease  or  of  hi-s  sufferings,  except  in  the  most  general  terms, 
or  in  order  to  give  information  to  his  medical  advisers ;  but  it  was 
plain  to  Dr.  Jackson,  who  was  twice  called  in  consultation  ;  to 
Dr.  Warren,  who  was  with  him  during  the  last  night  of  his  life  ; 
and  to  Dr.  Jeffries,  who  was  his  constant  attendant  from  the  first, 
that  he  noted  and  understood  everything  that  related  to  his  condi 
tion,  and  its  successive  changes.     His  conversation  on  this,  as  on 
all  other  subjects,  was  perfectly  easy  and  simple  ; — the  deep  tones  of 
his  voice  remained  unchanged ; — his  gentleness  was  uniform  ; — and 
the  expressions  of  his  affection  to  those  who  approached  him,  and 
eren  to  those  who  were  absent,  but  who  were  carefully  remembered 
him  in  messages  of  kindness,  were  true,  tender,  and  faithful  to  the  by 
end.     No  complaint  escaped  from  him  ;  nor  did  he  show  the  least 
impatience  under  his  infirmities,  or  the  least  relunctance  to  die. 
He  felt  the  value  and  the  power,  of  life,  and  was  full  of  love  for 
his  home  and  for  all  that  surrounded  him  there  and  made  him 
happy.      But    his    submission   to   the    will   of  God    was    entire. 
He   said,   on   one   occasion,    "I   shall   lie   here  patiently  until  I 
die ; " — and  he   did  so.     But  through   those  wearisome  days,  he 
preserved   his  natural   manner  in   every    thing,  and   maintained, 
without  effort,  those  just  and  true  relations  between  himself  and  all 
persons,  things,  and  occurrences  about  him,  which  through  life  had 
marked  him  so  strongly  and  had  given  such  dignity  and  power  to 
his  character. 

From  the  morning  of  Saturday,  when  he  had  announced  to  his 
attendant  physician — what  nobody,  until  that  time,  had  intimated — 
that  he  "should  die  that  night,"  the  whole  strength  of  his  great  facul 
ties  seemed  to  be  directed  to  obtain  for  him  a  plain  and  clear  per 
ception  of  his  onward  passage  to  another  world,  and  of  his  feelings 
and  condition  at  the  precise  moment  when  he  should  be  entering  its 
confines.  Once,  being  faint,  he  asked  if  he  were  not  then  dying  ? 
and  on  being  answered  that  he  was  not,  but  that  he  was  near  to 
death,  he  replied  simply,  "  Well ;  "  as  if  the  frank  and  exact  reply 


were  what  he  had  desired  to  receive.  A  little  later,  when  his  kind 
physician  repeated  to  him  that  striking  text  of  Scripture, — "  Yea, 
though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I 
will  fear  no  evil,  for  thou  art  with  me ;  thy  rod  and  thy  staff,  they 
comfort  me  " — he  seemed  less  satisfied,  and  said,  "  Yes ; — but  the 
fact,  the  fact  I  want ; " — desiring  to  know  if  he  were  to  regard 
these  words  as  an  intimation,  that  he  was  already  within  that  dark 
valley.  On  another  occasion,  he  inquired  whether  it  were 
likely  that  he  should  again  eject  blood  from  his  stomach  before 
death,  and  being  told  that  it  was  improbable,  he  asked,  "Then 
what  shall  you  do  ?  "  Being  answered  that  he  would  be  supported 
by  stimulants,  and  rendered  as  easy  as  possible  by  the  opiates  that 
had  suited  him  so  well,  he  inquired,  at  once,  if  the  stimulant  should 
not  be  given  immediately  ;  anxious  again  to  know  if  the  hand  of 
death  were  not  already  upon  him.  And  on  being  told,  that  it 
would  not  be  then  given,  he  replied,  "  When  you  give  it  to  me,  I 
shall  know  that  I  may  drop  off  at  once." 

Being  satisfied  on  this  point,  and  that  he  should,  therefore,  have 
a  final  warning,  he  said  a  moment  afterwards,  "  I  will,  then,  put 
myself  in  a  position  to  obtain  a  little  repose."  In  this  he  was 
successful.  He  had  intervals  of  rest  to  the  last ;  but  on  rousing 
from  them,  he  showed  that  he  was  still  intensely  anxious  to  preserve 
his  consciousness,  and  to  watch  for  the  moment  and  act  of  his 
departure,  so  as  to  comprehend  it.  Awaking  from  one  of  these 
slumbers,  late  in  the  night,  he  asked  distinctly  if  he  were  alive,  and 
on  Doing  assured  that  he  was,  and  that  his  family  was  collected 
around  his  bed,  he  said,  in  a  perfectly  natural  tone,  as  if  assenting 
to  what  had  been  told  him,  because  he  himself  perceived  that  it  was 
true,  "  I  still  live."  These  were  his  last  coherent  and  intelligible 
words.  At  twenty-three  minutes  before  three  o'clock,  without  a 
struggle  or  a  groan,  all  signs  of  life  ceased  to  be  visible  ;  his  vital 
organs  giving  away  at  last  so  slowly  and  gradually  as  to  indicate, 
— what  every  thing  during  his  illness  had  already  shown, — that  his 
intellectual  and  moral  faculties  still  maintained  an  extraordinary 


39 

mastery  amidst  the  failing  resources  of  his  physical  constitution. 
And  so  there  passed  out  of  this  world  one  of  its  great  beneficent' 
and  controlling  spirits.  As  the  sun  rose  on  that  quiet  Sabbath 
morning  the  expected,  yet  dreaded,  event  was  announced  as  a 
public  calamity,  first,  by  the  solemn  discharge  of  minute  guns,  and 
afterwards  by  the  tolling  of  bells,  over  a  large  part  of  the  land — a 
spontaneous  outbreak  of  the  general  feeling  at  the  loss  all  had 
suffered.  How  heavily  it  fell  oh  the  hearts  of  men  in  this  city, 
where  he  was  best  known,  and  especially  what  deep  grief,  mingled 
with  bitter  recollections  of  the  past  and  anxious  forebodings  for 
the  future,  marked  each  of  the  three  memorable  days, — consecrated 
as  no  three  similar  days  ever  were  consecrated  among  us,  to  public 
mourning, — may  be  partly  gathered  from  the  records  which  this 
volume  is  intended  to  collect  and  preserve.  The  rest — little  of 
which  can  be  recorded — will  dwell,  among  their  saddest  and  most 
sacred  thoughts,  in  the  memories  of  all  who  shared  in  the  moving, 
services  of  those  solemn  occasions,  or  who  gathered  around  that 
peaceful,  seagirt  grave,  and  will  be  transmitted  by  them  to  their 
children,  as  the  warning  traditions  of  a  great  national  sorrow. 


THE   FUNERAL. 


FRIDAY,  October,  29,  was  the  day  of  Mr.  Webster's  funeral. 
Boston  never  before  presented — probably  never  will  again  present 
^-so  general  an  aspect  of  mourning,  and  never  were  there  wit 
nessed  such  spontaneous,  universal,  and  deep  tokens  of  feeling. 
Most  of  the  shops  were  closed,  as  well  as  the  public  institutions, 
offices,  and  markets ;  and  a  large  proportion  of  the  city  was 
dressed  in  the  habiliments  of  sorrow.  The  mourning  draperies 
upon  many  of  the  buildings,  public  and  private,  were  rich,  elabo 
rate,  and  tasteful.  Festoons  of  black  and  white  were  almost 
continuous  through  Washington,  Hanover,  and  other  principal 
streets ;  and  multiplied  mottoes,  expressing  grief  and  admiration, 
were  placed  upon  walls  and  over  door- ways.  Flags,  prepared  with 
inscriptions  and  dressed  in  mourning,  were  extended  across  the 
streets.  In  general  the  mottoes  and  inscriptions  were  extremely 
well  chosen  and  appropriate,  and  were  a  proof,  not  only  of  the 
estimation  in  which  Mr.  Webster  was  held  in  Boston,  but  of  the 
high  standard  of  taste  and  cultivation  among  its  citizens. 

In  the  multiplicity  of  these  personal  and  spontaneous  expressions 
of  feeling,  it  is  impossible  to  describe,  or  specify  any ;  but  from 
amongst  the  mottoes,  of  which  more  than  a  hundred  were  exhibited, 
the  following  are  selected : 

His  •words  of  wisdom,  with  resistless  power, 

Have  graced  our  brightest,  cheered  our  darkest  hour. 

Thou  hast  instructed  many  and  thou  hast  strengthened  the  weak  hands. 

"We're  scanned  the  actions  of  his  daily  life  and  nothing  meets  our  eyes  but  deedp 

of  honor. 


41 


Some  when  they  die,  die  all.    Their  mouldering  clay  is  but  an  emblem  of  their 

memories.    But  he  has  lived.    He  leaves  a  work  behind  which  will  pluck 

the  shining  age  from  vulgar  time,  and  give  it  whole  to  late 

posterity. 

Thou  art  mighty  yet.    Thy  spirit  walks  abroad. 
The  great  heart  of  the  nation  throbs  heavily  at  the  portals  of  his  grave. 
Live  like  patriots  !  Live  like  Americans  !  United  all,  united  now,  and  united  forever. 

Wherever  among  men  a  heart  shall  be  found  that  beats  to  the  transports  of  patriotism 
and  liberty,  its  aspirations  shall  be  to  claim  kindred  with  his  spirit. 

Then  this  Daniel  was  preferred  above  the  Presidents  and  Princes,  because 
an  excellent  spirit  was  in  him. 

Know  thou,  0  stranger,  to  the  fame 
Of  this  much  loved,  much  honored  name, 
(For  none  that  knew  him  need  be  told, ) 
A  warmer  heart  Death  ne'er  made  cold. 

The  glory  of  thy  life,  like  the  day  of  thy  death,  shall  not  fail  from  the  remembrance 

of  man. 

Between  twelve  and  one — the  hour  of  the  funeral  at  Marshfield 
— minute  guns  were  fired,  and  the  bells  of  the  churches  were  tolled ; 
from  sunrise  to  sunset  guns  were  fired  every  fifteen  minutes, 
and  almost  continuously.  Similar  signs  of  mourning  were  heard 
from  the  hills  of  the  neighboring  towns,  and  along  the  line  of  the 
coast.  The  streets  were  crowded  with  citizens  and  visitors  from 
the  country,  reading  the  inscriptions  and  walking  through  the 
public  buildings,  all  wearing,  upon  their  saddened  countenances, 
tokens  of  sincere  sorrow.  Though  a  day  of  leisure  and  entire  ces 
sation  from  labor  there,  and  was  no  thought  of  anything  but  our 
great  loss.  There  were  no  smiling  faces  to  be  seen,  and  no 
cheerful  voices  to  be  heard. 

The  ftmeral  solemnities  were  at  Mr.  Webster's  own  residence 
in  Marshfield.  In  conformity  with  the  wish  expressed  in  his  will, 
everything  was  arranged  with  the  utmost  simplicity,  in  the  order 
usual  in  a  New  England  funeral,  but  private  it  could  not  be.  In 


42 

addition  to  the  general  sense  of  loss  in  the  lemoval  of  a  great 
leader  and  a  statesman,  in  whose  wisdom  and  firmness  so  strong  a, 
confidence  was  reposed,  there  was  in  many  hearts  a  feeling  of  per 
sonal  bereavement  in  the  death  of  a  revered  and  beloved  friend  ;  and 
thus  thousands  were  led  to  tne  spot  by  a  wish  to  honor  his  memory 
and  look  once  more  upon  his  face.  From  all  quarters,  by  every 
path,  and  by  every  conveyance,  great  multitudes  came  together ; 
and  the  whole  number  of  persons  assembled  at  the  hour  of  noon 
was  probably  not  less  than  ten  or  twelve  thousand. 

A  thoughtful  consideration  for  the  feelings  of  all  who  were 
present  was  shown  in  the  arragements  of  the  funeral.  In  order 
that  the  wish  which  all  felt,  to  look  for  he  last  time  upon  the  face 
of  the  illustrious  dead,  might  be  gratified  without  hurry  or  confusion, 
the  body  was  brought  from  the  library  a-t  an  early  hour  in  the 
morning  and  placed  upon  the  lawn,  in  front  of  the  house,  beneath 
the  open  heavens  and  under  a  tree  which,  in  its  summer  foliage, 
was  a  conspicuous  ornament  of  the  spot.  The  majestic  form 
reposed  in  the  familiar  garb  of  life,  with  more  than  the  dignity  of 
life  in  its  most  imposing  moments.  Suffering  had  changed,  without 
impairing  those  noble  features.  The  grandeur  of  the  brow 
was  untouched,  and  the  attitude  full  of  strength  and  peace.  For 
more  than  three  hours  a  constant  stream  of  men  and  women,  of  all 
ages,  passed  on  both  sides,  pausing  for  a  moment  to  look  upon  that 
loved  and  honored  form.  Parents  held  their  children  by  the  hand, 
bade  them  contemplate  the  face  of  their  benefactor,  and  charged 
them  never  to  lose  the  memory  of  that  spectacle  and  that  hour. — 
Many  dissolved  into  tears  as  they  turned  .aside ;  and  one — a  man 
of  plain  garb  and  appearance — was  heard  to  make  in  a  subdued 
voice,  the  striking  remark,  "  Daniel  Webster,  the  world  will  seem 
lonesome  without  you." 

The  thoughtful  and  kindly  feeling  which  dictated  all  the 'arrange 
ments,  permitted  any  who  wished,  to  enter  the  house  by  the 
principal  entrance,  walk  through  a  small  sitting-room,  where  hang 
several  family  portraits,  and  going  through  the  library,  a  beautiful 


43 

and  favorite  room,  ornamented  with  the  likenesses  of  Mr.  Webster 
and  Lord  Ashburton,  pass  out  upon  the  lawn.  Thousands  availed 
themselves  of  this  privilege, — silently,  decorously,  sadly.  There 
was  no  sound  from  that  vast  multitude,  but  the  inevitable  grating  * 
of  their  feet  upon  the  paths.  This  was  like  the  chafing  of  the 
surf  upon  a  pebbly  beach, — a  strange,  impressive  murmur. 

At  twelve,  the  passing  through  the  house  was  stopped.  Soon 
afterwards,  the  Rev.  EBENEZER  ALDEN,  pastor  of  the  Congrega 
tional  Church  in  South  Marshfield,  where  Mr.  Webster  had  been 
accustomed  to  attend  public  worship,  commenced  the  religious 
service  by  reading  a  selection  from  the  Bible.  After  which,  the 
following  address  was  made  by  him : 

On  an  occasion  like  the  present,  a  multitude  of  words  were  worse 
than  idle.  Standing  before  that  majestic  form,  it  becomes  ordinary 
men  to  keep  silence.  "  He  being  dead,  yet  speaketh."  In  the 
words  he  applied  to  Washington,  in  the  last  great  public  discourse 
he  ever  delivered,  the  whole  atmosphere  is  redolent  of  his  name  ; 
hills  and  forests,  rocks  and  rivers,  echo  and  re-echo  his  praises. 
All  the  good,  whether  learned  or  unlearned,  high  or  low,  rich  or 
poor,  feel  this  day  that  there  is  one  treasure  common  to  them  all, 
and  that  is  the  fame  and  character  of  Webster.  They  recount  his 
deeds,  po.nder  over  his  principles  and  teachings,  and  resolve  to  be 
more  and  more  guided  by  them  in  future.  Americans  by  birth  are 
proud  of  his  character,  and  exiles  from  foreign  shores  are  eager  to 
participate  in  admiration  of  him ;  and  it  is  true  that  he  is,  this  day, 
he-re,  everywhere,  more  an  object  of  love  and  regard  than  on  any 
d  y  since  his  birth. 

And  while  the  world,  too  prone  to  worship  mere  intellect, 
laments  that  the  orator  and  statesman  is  no  more,  we  enter  upon 
more  sacred  ground,  and  dwell  upon  the  example  and  counsels  of 
a  Christian,  as  a  husband,  father,  and  friend.  I  trust  it  will  be 
no  rude  wounding  of  the  spirit,  no  intrusion  upon  the  privacy  of 
domestic  life,  to  allude  to  a  few  circumstances  in  the  last  scenes 


44 

of  the  mortal  existence  of  the  great  man  who  is  gone,  fitted 
to  administer  Christian  consolation,  and  to  guide  to  a  better 
acquaintance  with  that  religion  which  is  adapted  both  to  temper 
our  grief  and  establish  our  hope. 

Those  who  were  present  upon  the  morning  of  that  Sabbath  upon 
which  this  head  of  a  family  conducted  the  worship  of  his  household, 
will  never  forget,  as  he  read  from  our  Lord's  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
the  emphasis  which  he  alone  was  capable  of  giving  to  that  passage 
which  speaks  of  the  divine  nature  of  forgiveness.  They  saw 
beaming  from  that  eye,  now  closed  in  death,  the  spirit  of  Him 
who  first  uttered  that  godlike  sentiment. 

And  he  who,  by  the  direction  of  the  dying  man,  upon  a  subse 
quent  morning  of  the  day  of  rest,  read  in  their  connection  these 
words:  "Lord,  I  believe;  help  thou  my  unbelief;"  and  then 
the  closing  chapter  of  our  Saviour's  last  words  to  his  disciples, 
being  particularly  requested  to  dwell  upon  this  clause  of  the  verse 
— "  Holy  Father,  keep  through  thine  own  name  those  wrhom  thou 
hast  given  me,  that  they  may  be  one  as  we  are  " — beheld  a  sublime 
illustration  of  the  indwelling  and  abiding  power  of  Christian  fai.h. 

And  if  these  tender  rememberances  only  cause  our  tears  to 
flow  more  freely,  it  may  not  be  improper  for  us  to  present  the 
example  of  the  father,  when  hie  great  heart  was  rent  by  the  loss 
of  a  daughter  whom  he  most  dearly  loved.  Those  present  on  that 
occasion  \vell  remember  when  the  struggle  of  mortal  agony  was 
over,  retiring  from  the  presence  of  the  dead,  bowing  together 
before  the  presence  of  God,  and  joining  with  the  afflicted  father 
as  he  poured  forth  his  soul,  pleading  for  grace  and  strength  from 
on  high. 

As  upon  the  morning  of  his  death  we  conversed  upon  the  evident 
fact  that,  for  the  last  few  weeks,  his  mind  had  been  engaged  in 
preparation  for  an  exchange  of  worlds,  one  who  knew  him,  well 
remarked,  "  His  whole  life  has  been  that  preparation."  The  people 
of  this  rural  neighborhood,  among  whom  he  spent  the  last  twenty 
years  of  his  life,  among  whom  he  died,  and  with  whom  he  is  to 


45 

rest,  have  been  accustomed  to  regard  him  with  mingled  veneration 
and  love.  Those  who  knew  him  best,  can  the  most  truly  appre 
ciate  the  lessons  both  from  his-  lips  and  example,  teaching  the 
sustaining  power  of  the  Gospel. 

His  last  words,  "  I  ^TILL  LIVE,"  we  may  interpret  in  a  higher 
sense  than  that  in  which  they  are  usually  regarded.  He  has  taught 
us  how  to  attain  the  life  of  faith  and  the  life  to  come. 

Vividly  impressed  upon  the  memory  of  the  speaker  is  the 
instruction  once  received  as  to  the  fitting  way  of  presenting  divine 
truth  from  the  sacred  desk.  Would  that  its  force  might  be  felt  by 
those  who  are  called  to  minister  in  divine  things.  Said  Mr. 
Webster,  "  When  I  attend  upon  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel,  I 
wish  to  have  it  made  a  personal  matter,  A  PERSONAL  MATTER,  A 
PERSONAL  MATTER."  It  is  to  present  him  as  enforcing 
these  divine  lessons  of  wisdom  and  consolation,  that  we  have 
recalled  to  your  minds  these  precious  recollections. 

And  we  need  utter  no  apology.  Indeed,  we  should  be  inexcu 
sable  in  letting  the  present  opportunity  pass  without  unveiling  the 
inner  sanctuary  of  the 'life  of  the  foremost  man  of  all  this  world ;  for 
his  most  intimate  friends  are  well  aware  that  he  had  it  in  mind  to 
prepare  a  work  upon  the  internal  evidences  of  Christianity,  as  a 
testimony  of  his  heartfelt  conviction  of  the  "divine  reality"  of  the 
Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  But,  finding  himself  rapidly  approaching 
those  august  scenes  of  immortality  into  which  he  had  so  often  looked, 
he  dictated  the  most  important  part  of  his  epitaph.  And  so  Ions:  as 
"  the  rock  shall  guard  his  rest,  and  the  ocean  sound  his  dirge,"  the 
world  shall  read  upon  his  monument,  not  only 

One  of  the  few,  the  immortal  names, 
"Which  were  not  born  to  die  ; 

but  also  that  Daniel  Webster  lived  and  died  in  the  Chiistian  faith. 
The  delineation  w7hich  he  gave  of  one  of  his  early  and  noble  com 
peers  could  never  have  been  written  except  from  an  experimental 
acquaintaince  with  that  which  he  holds  up  as  the  chief  excellence 


46 

of  his  friend.  This  description  we  shall  apply  to  himself,  trusting 
that  it  will  be  as  well  understood  as  admired. 

Political  eminence  and  professional  fame  fade  away  and  die  with 
all  things  earthly.  Nothing  of  character  is  really  permanent  but 
virtue  and  personal  worth.  These  remain.  Whatever  of  excel 
lence  is  wrought  into  the  soul  itself  belongs  to  both  worlds.  Real 
goodness  does  not  attach  itself  merely  to  this  life ;  it  points  to 
another  world.  Political  or  professional  reputation  cannot  last 
forever ;  but  a  conscience  void  of  offence  before  God  and  man  is 
an  inheritance  for  eternity.  Religion,  therefore,  is  a  necessary  and 
indispensable  element  in  any  great  h*iman  character.  There  is  no 
living  without  it.  Religion  is  the  tie  that  connects  man  with  his 
Creator  and  holds  him  to  His  throne.  If  that  tie  be  all  sundered, 
all  broken,  he  floats  away,  a  worthless  atom  in  the  universe ;  its 
proper  attractions  all  gone,  its  destiny  thwarted,  and  its  whole  future 
nothing  but  darkness,  desolation,  and  death.  A  man  with  no  sense 
of  religious  duty  is  he  whom  the  Scriptures  describe  in  such  terse 
but  terrific  language,  as  living  without  God  in  the  world.  Such  a 
man  is  out  of  his  proper  being,  out  of  the  circle  of  all  his  duties,  out 
of  the  circle  of  all  his  happiness,  and  away,  far,  far  away  from  the 
purposes  of  his  creation. 

A  mind  like  Mr.  Webster's  active,  thoughtful,  penetrating,  sedate, 
could  not  but  meditate  deeply  on  the  condition  of  man  below,  and 
feel  its  responsibilities.  He  could  not  look  on  this  mighty  system, 

This  universal  frame,  thus  "wondrous  fair, 

without  feeling  that  it  was  created  and  upheld  by  an  Intelligence, 
to  which  all  other  intelligence  must  be  responsible.  I  am  bound 
to  say  that  in  the  course  of  my  life  I  never  met  with  an  individual 
in  any  profession  or  condition,  who  always  spoke  and  always 
thought  with  such  awful  reverence  of  the  power  and  presence 
of  God.  No  irreverence,  no  lightness,  even  no  too  familiar  allusion 
to  God  and  his  attributes  ever  escaped  his  lips.  The  very  notion 
of  a  Supreme  Being  was,  with  him,  made  up  of  awe  and  solemnity. 


47 

It  filled  the  whole  of  his  great  mind  with  the  strongest  emotions. 
A  man  like  him,  with  all  his  proper  sentiments  and  sensibilities 
alive  in  him,  must,  in  this  state  ot  existence,  have  something  to 
believe,  and  something  to  hope  for  ;•  or  else,  as  life  is  advancing  to 
its  close,  all  is  heart-sinking  and  oppression.  Depend  upon  it, 
whatever  may  be  the  mind  of  an  old  man,  old  age  is  only  really 
happy  when,  on  feeling  the  enjoyments  of  this  world  pass  away,  it 
begin-s  to  lay  a  stronger  hold  on  the  realities  of  another. 

Mr.  Webster's  religious  sentiments  and  feelings  were  the  crown 
ing  glories  of  his  character. 

The  address  was  followed  by  a  prayer.  The  rooms,  hall,  and 
stairway,  were  filled  by  Mr.  Webster's  relatives  and  friends,  while  a 
vast  mass  of  listeners  stood  on  the  piazza,  and  on  the  lawn ;  the 
position  of  the  clergyman,  near  the  hall  door,  enabling  many 
to  hear. 

During  the  exercises,  unperceived  by  the  group  round  the  clergy 
man,  arrangements  were  made  for  conveying  the  body  to  the  tomb. 
The  metallic  case,  in  which  it  was  deposited,  was  covered,  and 
placed  on  a  simple,  low  platform,  drawn  by  one  pair  of  black  horses, 
whose  harness  was  slightly  dressed  with  crape.  The  coffin  was 
covered  with  full  black  cloth,  confined  by  several  plated  orna 
ments  ;  a  wreath  of  oak  leaves  was  at  the  head  ;  another  of  fresh 
flowers  at  the  foot. 

After  a  few  moments'  pause,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  prayer, 
two  or  three  gentlemen  quietly  and  gradually  opened  a  path 
through  the  dense  mass  of  persons  around  the  house.  In  solemn 
silence,  six  of  Mr.  Webster's  neighbors,  Asa  Hewett,  Seth  Weston, 
Eleazer  Harlow,  J.  P.  Cushman,  Tilden  Ames,  Daniel  Phillips,  took 
their  places  on  either  side  of  his  bier.  His  son,  grandson,  relatives, 
domestics,  and  the  persons  having  the  charge  and  management  of  his 
estates,  stood  next.  Among  the  domestics  were  several  colored 
persons,  who  had  been  long  in  Mr.  Webster's  service,  and  were 
deeply  attached  to  him.  One  of  them  had  been  recently  emanci- 


48 

pated  by  him.  The  Governor  of  the  Commonwealth,  the  Council 
and  State  Officers,  the  Mayor  of  Boston  and  City  Government, 
distinguished  citizens  of  Massachusetts,  and  many  from  the  other 
New  England  States,  and  delegations  from  other  States  and  cities, 
with  hundreds  of  personal,  devoted  friends  of  Mr.  Webster,  quietly 
passed  into  the  long  sad  procession ;  truly  a  sad  procession ;  for 
the  multitudes  that  lined  the  path  for  nearly  the  whole  distance  to 
the  tomb,  where  moved  by  the  same  grief  that  rested  on  the 
hearts  of  the  mourners. 

The  morning  had  been  uncommonly  beautiful.  The  air  was 
soft  and  warm,  and  the  light  so  rich  and  golden,  that  the  slight 
shade  still  found  under  some  few  trees,  had  been  grateful.  Just  as 
the  procession  began  to  move,  a  chill  breeze  came  up  from  the 
ocean,  and  threw  a  veil  of  mist  over  the  sky. 

When  the  funeral  train,  all  on  foot,  unheralded  by  official  pomp, 
military  display,  or  even  the  strains  of  mourning  music,  had  reached 
the  modest  tomb,  the  honored  form  was  rested  at  the  entrance.  It 
was  once  more  uncovered  that  the  relatives  and  friends  might  again 
and  for  the  last  time,  look  upon  that  majestic  countenance ;  a 
fervent  prayer  was  again  offered ;  and  then,  slowly  and  sadly, 
friend  and  stranger  passed  away,  and  left  the  illustrious  sleeper  with 
those  whom  he  had  so  tenderly  loved  in  life,  and  with  whom  death 
had  now  reunited  him. 

The  tomb,  with  its  group  of  unpretending  monuments,  is  on  a 
gentle  eminence,  about  a  mile  from  the  mansion-house,  and  adjoin 
ing  the  ancient  village  burying  ground,  where  rests  the  dust  of 
some  of  the  early  Pilgrim  Fathers.  Mr.  Webster  had  himself 
superintended  the  preparation  of  the  tomb,  and  the  erection  of  the 
monuments  to  the  wife  and  children  he  had  lost,  directing  that  the 
one  erected  to  himself  should  be  of  the  same  style  and  proportions. 
Over  the  door  of  the  tombs  is  cut  merely,  "Daniel  Webster." 
On  the  three  monuments  within  the  inclosure,  are  the  following 
inscriptions. 


49 

GRACE  FLETCHER, 
Wife  of  Daniel  Webster, 
Born  January,  16,  1781, 
Died  January  21,  1828. 
Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God. 

JULIA  WEBSTER.  « 

wife  of 

Samuel  Appleton  Appleton ; 
Born  January,  16,  1818, 

Died  April  28,  1848. 
Let  me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh.    ' 

MARY  CONSTANCE  APPLETON. 

Born  Feb.  7,  1848. 

Died  March  15,  1849. 

MAJOR  EDWARD  WEBSTER 

Born  July  20,  1820. 
Died  at  San  Angel,  in  Mexico, 
In  the  military  service 
of  his  country, 
Jan.  23,  1848. 
A  dearly  beloved  son  and  brother. 

As  the  multitude  turned  from  the  hallowed  spot,  many  gathered 
flowers,  leaves,  or  even  blades  of  grass,  to  be  treasured  as  memo 
rials  of  a  day  unequalled  in  solemn  pathos,  within  their  experience. 
The  effect  upon  the  minds  of  all  present,  can  never  be  described. 

All  things  were  in  harmony, — the  beauty  of  the  day,  the  falling 
leaves,  the  countenances  of  the  assembled  multitude,  the  appropri 
ate  arrangements,  the  aspect  of  the  autumnal  landscape, — all  aided 
in  producing  an  elevated  and  tender  mood  of  feeling,  it  was  one 
of  those  rare  occasions  in  which  a  brief  space  of  time  is  sufficient 
to  leave  impressions,  which  all  the  experiences  of  future  life  will 
not  be  able  to  efface. 


ORATIONS  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


Considered  merely  as  literary  productions,  we  think  the  three 
volumes  take  the  highest  rank  among  the  best  productions  of  the 
American  intellect.  *(They  are  thoroughly  national  in  their  spirit 
and  tone,  and  are  full  of  principles,  arguments  and  appeals)  which 
comes  directly  home  to  the  hearts  and  understandings  of  the  great 
body  of  the  people.  They  contain  the  results  of  a  long  life  of 
mental  labor,  employed  in  the  service  of  the  country.  They  give 
evidence  of  a  complete  familiarity  with  the  spirit  and  workings  of 
our  institutions,  and  breath  the  bracing  air  of  a  healthy  and 
invigorating  patriotism.  They  are  replete  with  that  true  wisdom 
which  is  slowly  gathered  from  the  exercise  of  a  strong  and  com 
prehensive  intellect  on  the  complicated  concerns  of  daily  life  and 
duty.  They  display  qualities  of  mind  and  style  which  would  give 
them  a  high  place  in  any  literature,  even  if  the  subjects  discussed 
were  less  interesting  and  important ;  and  they  show  also  a  strength 
of  personal  character,  superior  to  irresolution  and  fear,  capable  of 
bearing  up  against  the  most  determined  opposition,  and  uniting  to 
boldness  in  thought  intrepidity  in  action.  In  all  the  characteristics 
of  great  literary  performances,  they  are  fully  equal  to  many  works 
which  have  stood  the  test  of  age,  and  baffled  the  skill  of  criticism. 
Still,  though  read  and  quoted  by  everybody,  though  continually 
appealed  to  as  authorities,  though  considered  as  the  products  of  the 
most  capacious  understanding  in  the  country,  few  seem  inclined 
to  consider  the  high  rank  they  hold  in  our  literature,  or  their 


51 

claim  to  be  placed  among  the  greatest  works  which  the  human 
intellect  has  produced  during  the  last  fifty  years. 

The  speeches  of  Daniel  Webster  are  in  admirable  contrast  with 
the  kind  of  oratory  we  have  indicated.  They  have  a  value  and 
interest  apart  from  the  time  and  occasion  of  their  delivery,  for  they 
are  store-houses  of  thought  and  knowledge.  (The  speaker  descends 
to  no  rhetorial  tricks  and  shifts,  he  indulges  in  no  parade  of  orna 
ment.  A  self-sustained  intellectual  might  is  impressed  on  every 
page.  He  rarely  confounds  the  processes  of  reason  and  imagina 
tion,  even  in  those  popular  discourses  intended  to  operate  on  large 
assemblies.  He  betrays  no  appetite  for  applause,  no  desire  to  win 
attention  by  the  brisk  life  and  momentary  sparkle  of  flashing 
declamation.  Earnestness,  solidity  of  judgment,  elevation  of  senti 
ment,  broad  and  generous  views  of  national  policy,  and  a  massive 
strength  of  expression,  characterize  all  his  works.  We  feel,  in 
reading  them,lthat  he  is  a  man  of  principles)  not  a  man  of  expedi 
ents  ;  that  he  'never  adopts  opinions  without  subjecting  them  to 
stern  tests  ;  and  tha-t  he  recedes  from  them  only  at  the  bidding  of 
reason  and  experience.  He  never  seems  to  be  playing  a  part,  but 
always  acting  a  life. 

The  impression  of  power  we  obtain  from  Webster's  productions, 
&  f — a  power  not  merely  of  the  brain,  but  of  the  heart  and  physical 
temperament,  a  power  resulting  from  the  mental  and  bodily  consti 
tution  of  the  whole  man, — is  the  source  of  his  hold  upon  our  respect 
and  admiration.  We  feel  that,  under  any  circumstances,  in  any 
condition  of  social  life,  and  at  almost  any  period  of  time,  his  great 
capacity  would  have  been  felt  and  acknowledged.  He  does  not 
appear,  li'ke  many  eminent  men,  to  be  more  peculiarly  calculated 
for  his  own  age  than  for  any  other, — to  possess  faculties  and  dispo 
sitions  which  might  have  rusted  in  obscurity,  had  circumstances 
been  less  jpropritious.  We  are  sure  that,  as  an  old  baron  of  the 
feudal  time,  as  an  early  settler  of  New  England,  as  a  pioneer  in  the 
western  forests,  he  would  have  been  a  Warwick,  a  Standish,  or  a 
Boon.  His  childhood  was  passed  in  a  small  country  village,  where 


52 

the  means  of  education  were  scanty,  and  at  a  period  when  the 
country  was  rent  with  civfl  dissensions.  A  large  majority  of  those 
who  are  called  educated  men  have  been  surrounded  by  all  the 
implements  and  processes  of  instruction;  but  Webster  won  his 
education  by  battling  against  difficulties.  "  A  dwarf  behind  a 
steam-engine  can  remove  mountains ;  but  no  dwarf  can  hew  them 
down  with  a  pick  axe,  and  he  must  be  a  Titan  that  hurls  them 
abroad  with  his  arms."  Every  step  in  that  long  journey,  by  which 
the  son  of  the  New  Hampshire  farmer  has  obtained  the  highest  rank 
in  social  and  political  life,  has  been  one  of  strenuous  effort.  The 
space  is  crowded  with  incidents,  and  tells  of  obstacles  sturdily  met 
and  fairly  overthrown.  His  life  and  his  writings  seem  to  bear  testi 
mony,  that  he  can  perform  whatever  he  strenuously  attempts. 
His  words  never  seem  disproportioned  to  his  strength.  Indeed,  he 
rather  gives  the  impression  that  he  has  powers  and  impulses  in 
reserve,  to  be  employed  when  the  occasion  for  their  exercises 
may  arise.  In  many  of  his  speeches,  not  especially  perraded  by 
passion,  we  perceive  strength,  indeed,  but  strength  "  half-leaning 
on  his  own  right-arm."  He  has  never  yet  been  placed  in  circum 
stances  where  the  full  might  of  his  nature,  in  all  its  depth  of 
understanding,  fiery  vehemence  of  sensibility,  and  adamantine 
strength  of  will,  have  been  brought  to  bear  on  any  one  object,  and 
strained  to  their  utmost. 

We  have  referred  to  Webster's  productions  as  being  eminently 
•national.  Every  one  familiar  with  them  will  bear  out  the  state 
ment.  In  fact,  the  most  hurried  glance  at  his  life  would  prove, 
that,  surrounded  as  he  has  been  from  his  youth  by  American  influ 
ences,  it  could  hardly  be  otherwise.  His  earliest  recollections 
must  extend  nearly  to  the  feelings  and  incidents  of  the  Revolution. 
His  whole  life  since  that  period  has  been  passed  in  the  country  of 
his  birth,  and  his  fame  and  honors  are  all  closely  connected  with 
American  feelings  and  institutions.  His  works  all  refer  to  the 
•history,  the  policy,  the  laws,  the  government,  the  social  life,  and  the 
destiny,  of  his  own  land.  They  bear  little  resemblance,  in  their 


53 

tone  and  spirit,  to  productions  of  the  same  class  on  the  other  side 
of  the  A.tlantic.  They  have  come  from  the  heart  and  understand 
ing  of  one  into  whose  very  nature  the  life  of  his  country  has 
passed.  Without  taking  into  view  the  influences  to  which  his 
youth  and  early  manhood  were  subjected,  so  well  calculated  to 
inspire  a  love  for  the  very  soil  of  his  nativity,  and  to  mould  his 
mind  into  accordance  with  what  is  best  and  noblest  in  the  spirit 
of  our  institutions,  his  position  has  been  such  as  to  lead  him  to 
survey  objects  from  an  American  point  of  view.  His^  patriotism 
has  become  part  of  his  being.  Deny  him  that,  and  you  deny  the 
authorship  of  his  works.  It  has  prompted  the  most  majestic  flights 
of  his  eloquence.  It  has  given  intensity  to  his  purposes,  and  lent 
the  richest  glow  to  his  genius.  It  has  made  his  eloquence  a 
language  of  the  heart,  felt  and  understood  over  every  portion  of 
the  land  it  consecrates.  On  Plymouth  Rock,  on  Bunker's  Hill,  at 
Mount  Yernon,  by  the  tombs  of  Hamilton,  and  Adams,  and  Jeffer 
son,  and  Jay,  we  are  reminded  of  Daniel  Webster.  \  He  has  done 
what  no  national  poet  has  yet  succeeded  in  doing, — associated 
his  own  great  genius  with  all  in  our  country's  history  and  scenery 
which  makes  us  rejoice  that  we  are  Americans.  f^Over  all  those 
events  in  our  history  which  are  heroical,  he  has  cast  the  hues  of 
strong  feeling  and  vivid  imagination.  He  cannot  stand  on  one 
spot  of  ground,  hallowed  by  liberty  or  religion,  without  being 
kindled  by  the  genius  of  the  place ;  he  cannot  mention  a  name, 
consecrated  by  self-devotion  and  patriotism,  without  doing  it 
eloquent  homage.  Seeing  clearly,  and  feeling  deeply,  he  makes  us 
see  and  feel  with  him.  That  scene  of  the  landing  of  Pilgrims,  in 
which  his  imagination  conjures  up  the  forms  and  emotions  of  our 
New  England  ancestry,  will  ever  live  in  the  national  memory. 
We  see,  with  him,  the  little  "  bark,  with  the  interesting  group  on 
its  deck,  make  it  slow  progress  to  the  shore."  We  feel,  with 
him,  "  the  cold  which  benumbed,"  and  listen,  with  him,  "  to  the 
winds  which  pierced  them."  Carver,  and  Bradford,  and  Standish, 
and  Brewster,  and  Allerton,  look  out  upon  us  from  the  pictured 


54 

page,  in  all  the  dignity  with  which  virtue  and  freedom  invest  theif 
martyrs  ;  and  we  see,  too,  "  chilled  and  shivering  childhood,  house 
less  but  for  a  mother's  arms,  couchless  but  for  a  mother's  breast," 
till  our  own  blood  almost  freezes. 

The  readiness  with  which  the  orator  compels  our  sympathies  to 
follow  his  own  is  again  illustrated  in  the  orations  at  Bunker  Hill, 
and  in  the  discourse  in  honor  of  Adams  and  Jefferson.  In  reading 
them,  we  feel  a  new  pride,  in  our  country,  and  in  the  great  men 
and  great  principles  it  has  cherished.  The  mind  feels  an  unwonted 
elevation,  and  the  heart  is  stirred  with  emotions  of  more  than 
common  depth,  by  their  majesty  and  power.)  Some  passages  are 
so  graphic  and  true  that  they  seem  gifted  with  a  voice,  and  to 
speak  to  us  from  the  page  they  illumine.  The  intensity  of  feeling 
with  which  they  are  pervaded  rises  at  times  from  confident  hope  to 
prophecy,  and  lifts  the  soul  as  with  wings.  In  that  splendid  close 
to  a  remarkable  passage  in  the  oration  on  Adams  and  Jefferson, 
what  American  does  not  feel  assured,  with  the  orator,  that  their 
fame  will  be  immortal  ?  "  Although  no  sculptured  marble  should 
rise  to  their  memory,  nor  engraved  stone  bear  record  to  their 
deeds,  yet  will  their  remembrance  be  as  lasting  as  the  land  they 
honored.  Marble  columns  may,  indeed,  moulder  into  dust,  time 
may  erase  all  impress  from  the  crumbling  stone,  but  their  fame 
remains ;  for  with  AMERICAN  LIBERTY  it  rose,  and  with  AMERICAN 
LIBERTY  ONLY  can  it  perish.  It  was  the  last  swelling  peal  of 
yonder  choir,  '  THEIR  BODIES  ARE  BURIED  IN  PEACE,  BUT  THEIR  NAME 
LIVETH  EVERMORE,"  I  catch  the  solemn  song,  I  echo  that  lofty 
strain  of  funeral  triumph,  '  THEIR  NAME  LIVETH  EVERMORE/  " 

In  that  noble  burst  of  eloquence,  in  the  speech  on  the  Greek 
Revolution,  in  which  he  asserts  the  power  of  the  moral  sense  of 
the  world,  in  checking  the  dominion  of  brute  force,  and  rendering 
insecure  the  spoils  of  successful  oppression,  we  have  a  strong 
instance  of  his  reliance  on  the  triumph  of  right  over  might. 

"  This  public  opinion  of  the  civilized  world,"  he  says,  "  may  be  silenced  by  mili 
tary  power,  but  it  cannot  be  conquered.  It  is  elastic,  irrepressible,  and  invulnerable 


55 

to  the  weapons  of  ordinary  power.  It  follows  the  conqueror  "back  to  the  very  scene 
of  his  ovations ;  it  calls  upon  him  to  take  notice,  that  Europe,  though  silent,  is  yet 
indignant  •  it  shows  him,  that  the  sceptre  of  his  victory  is  a  barren  sceptre,  that  it 
shall  confer  neither  joy  nor  honor,  but  shall,  moulder  to  dry  ashes  in  his  grasp.  In 
the  midst  of  his  exultation,  it  pierces  his  ear  with  the  cry  of  injured  justice, 
it  denounces  against  him  the  indignation  of  an  enlightened  and  civilized  age ;  it 
turns  to  bitterness  the  cup  of  his  rejoicing,  and  wounds  him  with  the  sting  which 
belongs  to  the  consciousness  of  having  outraged  the  opinion  of  mankind." 

The  most  splendid  image  to  be  found  in  any  of  his  works  closes 
a  passage  in  which  he  attempts  to  prove  that  our  fathers  accom 
plished  the  Revolution  on  a  strict  question  of  principle. 

"  It  was  against  the  recital  of  an  act  of  parliament,  rather  than  against  any  suffer 
ing  under  its  enactments,  that  they  took  up  arms.  They  went  to  war  against  a  pr cam- 
lie  I  They  fought  seven  years  against  a  declaration.  They  poured  out  their  treas 
ures  and  their  blood  like  water,  in  a  contest  in  opposition  to  an  assertion,  which  those 
less  sagacious,  and  not  so  well  schooled  in  the  principles  of  civil  liberty,  would  have 

regarded  as  barren  phraseology,  or  mere  parade  of  words On  this  question   of 

principle,  while  actual  suffering  was  yet  afar  off,  they  raised  their  flag  against  a 
power,  to  which,  for  purposes  of  foreign  conquest  and  subjugation,  Rome  in  the 
height  of  her  glory,  is  not  to  be  compared, — a  power  which  has  dotted  over  the 
surface  of  the  whole  globe  with  her  possessions  and  military  posts,  whose  morning 
drum-beat,  following  the  sun,  and  keeping  company  with  the  hours,  circles  the  earth 
daily  with  one  continuous  and  unbroken  strain  of  the  martial  airs  of  England." 

The  imagination  of  Mr.  Webster,  if  not  that  of  a  poet,  is  emi 
nently  the  imagination  which  befits  an  orator  and  debater.  A 
statesman  who  is  to  present  his  views  on  a  question  of  national 
policy  in  lucid  order,  and  to  illustrate  them  by  familiar  pictures, 
would  fail  in  attaining  his  object,  if  he  substituted  fancies  for  reason, 
or  linked  his  reasoning  with  too  subtile  images.  Mr.  Webster's 
imagination  never  leads  him  astray  from  his  logic,  but  only  illu 
mines  the  path.  It  is  no  delicate  Ariel,  sporting  with  abstract 
thought,  and  clothing  it  in  a  succession  of  pleasing  shapes ;  but  a 
power  fettered  by  the  chain  of  argument  it  brightens.  Even  in 
his  noblest  bursts  of  eloquence,  we  are  struck  rather  by  the  eleva 
tion  of  the  feeling,  than  the  vigor  of  the  imagination.  For 


56 

instance,  in  the  Bunker  Hill  oration,  he  closes  an  animated  passage 
with  the  well-known  sentence, — "  Let  it  rise  till  it  meet  the  sun  in 
his  coming  ;  let  the  earliest  light  of  morning  gild  it,  and  parting  day 
linger  and  play  upon  its  summit."  If  we  take  from  this  passage 
all  the  phrases  which  are  not  strictly  original,  and  separate  the 
sentiment  from  the  invention,  we  shall  find  that  it  is  not  eminently 
creative. 

In  Mr.  Webster's  style,  we  always  perceive  that  a  presiding 
power  of  intellect  regulates  his  use  of  terms.  The  amplitude  of  his 
comprehension  is  the  source  of  his  felicity  of  expression.  He  bends 
language  into  the  shape  of  his  thought ;  he  never  accommodates 
his  thought  to  his  language.  The  grave,  high,  earnest  nature  of 
the  man  looks  out  upon  us  from  his  well-knit,  massive,  compact 
sentences.  We  feel  that  we  are  reading  the  works  of  one  whose 
greatness  of  mind  and  strength  of  passion  no  conventionalism  could 
distort,  and  no  exterior  process  of  culture  could  polish  into  feeble 
ness  and  affectation;  of  one  who  has  lived  a  life,  as  well  as  passed 
through  a  college, — who  has  looked  at  nature  and  man  as  they  are 
in  themselves,  not  as  they  appear  in  books.  We  can  trace  back 
expressions  to  influences  coming  from  the  woods  and  fields,— from 
the  fireside  of  the  farmer, — from  the  intercourse  of  social  life.  jThe 
secret  of  his  style  is  not  to  be  found  in  Kames  or  Blair,  but  in  his 
own  mental  and  moral  constitution.  (There  is  a  tough,  sinewy 
strength  in  his  diction,  which  gives  it  almost  muscular  power  in 
forcing  its  way  to  the  heart  and  understanding.)  Occasionally,  his 
words  are  of  that  kind  which  are  called  "  half-battles,  stronger 
than  most  men's  deeds."  In  the  course  of  an  abstract  discussion, 
or  a  clear  statement  of  facts,  he  will  throw  in  a  sentence  which 
almost  makes  us  spring  to  our  feet.  When  vehemently  roused, 
either  from  the  excitement  of  opposition,  or  in  unfolding  a  great 
principle  which  fills  and  expands  his  soul,  or  in  paying  homage  to 
some  noble  exemplar  of  virtue  and  genius,  his  style  has  a  Miltonic 
grandeur  and  roll,  which  can  hardly  be  surpassed  for  majestic 
eloquence.  In  that  exulting  rush  of  the  mind,  when  every  faculty 


57 

is  permeated  by  feeling,  and  works  with  all  the  force  of  passion, 
his  style  has  a  corresponding  swiftness  and  energy,  and  seems 
endowed  with  power  to  sweep  all  obstacles  from  its  path.  In  those 
inimitable  touches  of  wit  and  sarcasm,  also,  where  so  much  depends 
upon  the  collection  and  collocation  of  apt  and  expressive  language, 
and  where  the  object  is  to  pelt  and  tease  rather  than  to  crush,  his 
diction  glides  easily  into  colloquial  forms,  and  sparkles  with  anima 
tion  and  point.  In  the  speech  in  reply  to  Hayne,  the  variety  of  his 
style,  is  admirably  exemplified.  The  pungency  and  force  of  many 
strokes  of  sarcasm,  in  this  celebrated  production,  the  rare  felicity 
of  their  expression,  the  energy  and  compression  of  the  wit,  and  the 
skill  with  which  all  are  made  subsidiary  to  the  general  purpose  of 
the  orator,  afford  fine  examples  of  what  may  be  termed  the  science 
of  debate.  There  is  a  good-humored  mockery,  covering,  however, 
much  grave  satire,  in  his  reference  to  the  bugbear  of  Federalism. 

"  We  all  know  a  process,"  he  says,  "  by  which  the  whole  Essex  Junto  could,  in 
one  hour,  be  washed  white  from  their  ancient  federalism,  and  come  out,  every  one 
of  them,  an  original  democrat,  dyed  in  the  wool !  Some  of  them  have  actually  under 
gone  the  operation,  and  they  say  it  is  quite  easy.  The  only  inconvenience  it  occa 
sions,  as  they  tell  us,  is  a  slight  tendency  of  the  blood  to  the  head,  a  soft  suffusion, 
which  however,  is  very  transient,  since  nothing  is  said  by  those  they  join  calculated  to 
deepen  the  red  in  the  cheek,  but  a  prudent  silence  is  observed  in  regard  to  all  the  past" 

We  have  not  considered  Daniel  Webster  as  a  politician,  but  as 
an  American.  We  do  not  possess  great  men  in  such  abundance 
as  to  be  able  to  spare  one  from  the  list.  It  is  clearly  our  pride  and 
interest  to  indulge  in  an  honest  exultation  at  any  signs  of  intellec 
tual  supremacy  in  one  of  our  own  countrymen.  His  talents  and 
acquirements  are  so  many  arguments  for  republicanism.  They  are 
an  answer  to  the  libel,  that,  under  our  constitution,  and  in  the 
midst  of  our  society,  large  powers  of  mind  and  marked  individu 
ality  of  character  cannot  be  developed  and  nourished.  We  have 
in  Mr.  Webster  the  example  of  a  man  whose  youth  saw  the  founda 
tion  of  our  government,  and  whose  maturity  has  been  spent  in 


58 

exercising  some  of  its  highest  offices ;  who  was  born  on  our  soil, 
educated  amid  our  people,  exposed  to  all  tne  malign  and  beneficent 
influences  of  our  society ;  and  who  has  acquired  high  station  by  no 
sinuous  path,  by  no  sacrifice  of  manliness,  principle,  or  individu 
ality,  but  by  a  straight-forward  force  of  character  and  vigor  of 
intellect.  A  fame  such  as  he  has  obtained  is  worthy  of  the  noblest 
ambition  ;  it  reflects  honor  on  the  whole  nation ;  it  is  stained  by  no 
meanness,  or  fear,  or  subserviency  ;  it  is  the  result  of  a  long  life  of 
intellectual  labor,  employed  in  elucidating  the  spirit  of  our  laws 
and  government,  in  defending  the  principles  of  our  institutions,  in 
disseminating  enlarged  views  of  patriotism  and  duty,  and  in  enno 
bling,  by  the  most  elevated  sentiments  of  freedom  and  religion,  the 
heroic al  events  of  our  natural  history.  And  we  feel  assured, 
when  the  animosities  of  party  have  been  stilled  at  the  tomb,  and 
the  great  men  of  this  generation  have  passed  from  the  present 
feverish  sphere  of  excitement  into  the  calm  of  history,  that  it  will 
be  with  feelings  of  unalloyed  pride  and  admiration,  that  the  scholar, 
the  lawyer,  the  statesman,  the  orator,  the  American,  will  ponder 
over  the  writings  of  Daniel  Webster. 


59 


EULOGY, 


BY   WILBUR   M.   HAYWARD.. 


The  voices  of  national  eulogy  and  sorrow  unite  to  tell  us,  Daniel 
Webster  is  numbered  with  the  dead.  Seldom  has  mortality  seen  a 
sublimer  close  of  an  illustrious  career.  No  American,  since  Wash 
ington,  has,  to  so  great  an  extent,  occupied  the  thoughts,  and 
moulded  the  minds  of  men.  The  past  may  hold  back  its  tribute, 
and  the  present  give  no  light,  but  the  future  will  show  in  colors  of  liv 
ing  truth  the  honor  which  is  justly  due  him  as  the  political  prophet, 
and  great,  intellectual  light  of  the  New  World.  His  life-time  labors 
have  been  to  defend  the  Constitution,  to  preserve  the  Union,  to 
honor  the  great  men  of  the  Revolution,  to  vindicate  International 
Law,  to  develop  the  resources  of  the  country,  and  transmit  the 
blessings  of  good  government  to  all  who  should  thereafter  walk  on 
American  soil. 

It  is  right  that  mourning  should  shroud  the  land.  A  star  of  mag 
nitude  and  lustre  has  left  the  horizon  and  gone  down  to  the  realm 
of  death.  Wherever  on  earth  patriotism  commands  regard,  and 
eloquence  leads  captive  the  soul,  it  will  be  seen  and  felt  that  a  truly 
great  man  has  been  called  away,  and  left  a  void  which  none  can  fill. 

New  Hampshire  has  lost  her  noblest  column.  She  has  no  more 
such  granite  left.  Massachusetts  will  not  soon  cease  weeping  for 
her  adopted  son.  Plymouth  Rock,  Faneuil  Hall,  and  Bunker  Hill, 
will  forever  speak  of  him  whose  eloquence  has  made  them  hallowed 
spots  in  the  remembrance  of  mankind.  His  ennobling  flights  of 
reason,  and  lofty  outbursts  of  oratoricaj  power,  give  us  evidence 
clearer  than  the  light  of  day,  that  genius  will  leave  an  impress  on 


the  human  heart  which  time  can  not  corrode,  nor  circumstance 
destroy. 

True  greatness  is  not  born  in  a  day.  It  requires  many  years 
to  lay  an  adamantine  foundation.  Webster  did  not  dazzle  the 
world  with  a  sudden  outburst  of  glory.  But  like  the  sun  rising 
amid  clouds  and  dispelling  sudden  storms,  he  slowly  attained  the 
meridian,  and  when  at  last  called  to  set  behind  the  horizon,  left  "  the 
world  all  light — all  on  fire — from  the  potent  contact  of  his  own 
great  spirit."  His  genius  was  not  of  that  order  which  for  a  few 
years  illuminates  the  world,  and  then  goes  out,  to  be  remembered 
no  more  forever ;  but,  like  the  majesty  of  the  monuments  which 
ages  ofEgyptian  toil  had  raised  on  the  sands  of  the  desert,  and 
which  still  mock  the  corrodings  of  time,  his  mind  slowly  matured, 
and  when  it  was  brought  into  active  life  gave  clear  and  conclu 
sive  evidence  that  monuments  would  crumble  to  dust  and  the  sea 
lave  the  shore  no  more  before  it  would  fail  of  grateful  mention  and 
lasting  homage. 

It  has  been  said  that  national  ingratitude  sent  Webster  home  to 
Marshfield  to  die.  It  is  a  base  slander  on  his  glorious  career. 
When  his  mission  was  filled,  he  went  home  to  the  grave  undis 
turbed  by  political  clamor,  or  the  thunders  of  a  mercenary  press. 
All  were  unable  to  dethrone  the  majestyof  his  mind,  to  quench  his 
ardor  and  patriotism,  or  make  less  strong  his  love  for,  and  devotion 
to  American  LIBERTY  and  UNION.  When  Adams  and  Jefferson 
died,  Faneuil  Hall  was  shrouded  in  mourning,  and  its  arches  rung 
with  his  lofty  and  just  commendations  of  their  services  to  liberty 
and  mankind.  From  his  eulogy  on  the  occasion  of  their  deaths, 
with  its  sublime  bursts  of  eloquence,  will  their  fame  go  down  to  the 
future  in  a  manner  more  imperishable  than  sculptured  marble  or 
monumental  pile.  Again,  when  the  oration  was  pronounced  upon 
the  landing  of  the  Pilgrims  on  the  rock  of  Plymouth,  it  was  felt  by  all, 
who  in  his  burning  words  called  to  mind  that  lonely  bark  tossed  on 
the  surges  of  an  unknown  sea,  bearing  as  its  freight  liberty  to  worship 
God  according  to  the  dictates  of  conscience — that  wheresoever,  in 


61 

all  coming  years  the  sons  of  that  immortal  band  should  spread  the 
light  of  civilization  and  blessings  of  good  government  —  the  words 
which  he  then  and  there  uttered,  would  be  read  and  kindle  the  fires 
of  patriotism  on  every  hearth-stone,  from  the  Eastern  to  the  West 
ern  Ocean.  Demosthenes,  when  in  the  pride  of  his  manhood  and 
strength  of  mind,  wrote  and  delivered  the  Oration  on  the  Crown. 
It  has  become  the  classical  study  of  every  age  since  then.  Web 
ster,  also,  when  in  the  maturity  of  his  intellect,  on  Bunker  Hill, 
which  in  days  of  revolutionary  history  had  been  watered  with  the 
blood  of  American  Freemen,  gave  evidence  to  the  world  that 
although  Demosthenes  and  the  gates  of  Athens  had  crumbled 
away  to  dust,  a  greater  than  Demosthenes  now  lived  to  give  a  last 
ing  influence  to  the  character  and  destiny  of  the  New  World.  The 
reply  to  Hayne  settled  in  the  minds  of  all  reasonable  men  the 
question  of  State  Rights  and  Nullification,  then  broached  in  Con 
gress,  to  the  great  danger  of  the  Union.  May  the  Heavens  be 
rolled  away  as  a  scroll,  and  the  elements  melt  with  fervent  heat, 
before  such  sentiments  shall  fail  of  the  knowledge  and  respect  of 
the  American  people.  Webster's  intellect  resembled  the  glory  of 
noontide  sun — his  profound  reason  would  admit  of  no  successful 
answer.  Equally  at  home,  at  the  Bar,  or  in  Congressional  Halls, 
he  has  won,  in  the  noblest  elements  of  manhood,  the  name  of 
God-like. 

The  sphere  of*  eloquence  is  directly  with  the  minds  of  the  masses. 
It  is  a  spontaneous  spirit  of  genius,  ever  ready  to  show  its  power. 
It  rouses  the  patriotism  of  a  continent,  and  leaves  its  impress  on 
the  hearts  of  the  people.  Intelligence  will  bask  in  its  sunshine. 
Ignorance  will  bow  down  and  worship  a  power  which  it  cannot 
comprehend.  Oral  tradition  will  transmit  from  generation  to  gene 
ration.  It  cannot  be  dimmed  by  lapse  of  ages,  or  lost  in  any  revo 
lution  of  human  affairs. 

Sad  and  unwelcome  are  the  events  which  mark  the  age.  Death 
has  thrown  a  deep  and  sombre  pall  over  the  land.  Tearful  is 
Columbia's  eye,  and  desolate  is  her  heart.  Her  temple  is  shrouded  in 


62 

gloom  —  its  aisles  are  thronged  with  mourners  —  its  columns  are 
wreathed  with  cypress.  The  muffled  bell  is  but  the  echo  of  the 
muffled  heart.  Elegy  has  stifled  encomium ;  panegyric  has  yielded 
to  sorrow ;  grief  has  become  the  most  befitting  eulogy.  The  heroes 
of  the  Revolution  have  met  the  only  foe  they  could  not  conquer, 
achieved  the  only  victory  that  will  endure,  and  won  the  only  laurels 
that  will  not  fade.  The  Conscript  Fathers  are  no  more  ;  one  by 
one  they  have  passed  away  to  a  brighter  and  a  happier  sphere. 
They  are  all  gone  forever — Creators,  Preservers,  and  Defender — 
all !  Their  mighty  missions  are  ended — their  work  is  done  ;  death 
has  hallowed  their  memories,  and  immortal  life  has  sanctified  their 
careers !  Washington  and  Adams,  and  Jefferson  and  Madison,  and 
CalhoiHi  and  Clay!  Illustrious  immortals!  How  we  delight  to 
dwell  upon  their  virtues,  and  linger  on  their  memories !  While  we 
would  not  recall  them  from  their  high  abode,— fain  would  we  still  have 
kept  back  ONE  from  that  resplendent  throng !  Mount  Vernon  !  and 
Quincy,  and  Monticello,  and  Ashland ! 

"  Ye  dusky  palaces  whose  gloom  is  \red 
*  To  mighty  names  !  " 

Hallowed  are  thy  memories,  and  sacred  thy  dust!  Still  g la dly 
would  we  yet  longer  have  withheld  MARSHFIELD  from  that  mournful 
catalogue !  But  alas !  that  soul  sublime  has  already  passed  the 
stream  of  death  *  *  *  "  to  breathe 


with  that  long  and  bright  array  who  are  reaping  the  reward 
of  unsullied  virtue  and  unbending  faith!  The  last  and  noblest 
of  those  glorious  lights  which  had  shone  so  long  and  so  brightly 
in  the  great  American  constellation,  as  to  dazzle  the  world  with 
its  splendor,  has  suddenly  gone  out  —  Gone  out  ?  No !  It  still 
beams  with  bright  refraction  around  that  deep,  dark  veil  which  has 
eclipsed  its  "fervent  heat,"  and  thrown  its  "  radiant  light "  to  heaven* 
A  cloud  has  passed  over  its  fair  disc  but  to  image  upon  a  darker 
screen  its  richer  tints,  and  its  more  golden  hues ! 


63 

Well  may  Columbia  droop  her  queenly  head,  when  her  Defender 
has  fallen  !  fallen  on  the  field  where  he  had  won  so  many  amaranth 
ine  wreaths,  in  advance  of  the  ranks  whose  courage  had  been 
strengthened  by  his  word,  and  at  trie  very  post  which  Nature  had 
reserved  for  his  mighty  and  commanding  intellect.  Born  among 
the  rough,  rugged  mountains  of  New  Hampshire,  that  Switzerland 
of  America — where  Nature, — wrhose  domain  it  seems  almost  sacri 
lege  for  art  to  invade, — has  vied  with  herself  in  her  sublime  crea 
tions,  his  mind,  like  her  mountains,  was  fashioned  in  a  giant 
mould,  and  caught  its  bold  outlines  from  their  granite  walls. 

The  fires  of  the  Revolutionnad  just  ceased  to  burn — the  sword 
had  just  returned  to  the  scabbard — the  last  boom  of  the  cannon 
had  just  died  away  on  the  parapets  of  Yorktown  —  the  breath  of 
Liberty  had  blown  back  on  the  shores  of  England  the  fiery  tide 
of  unavailing  resistance,  strown  thick  with  the  wrecks  of  her 
wealth,  her  power  and  her  glory. 

Early  had  he  learned  to  lisp  the  names  of  those  brave  men  whose 
patriotism  and  self-devotion  is  attested  by  a  mighty  chain  of  monu 
ments,  from  the  heights  of  Bennington  and  Bunker  Hill,  to  the  plains 
of  Monmouth  and  Eutau.  The  age  of  creative  power  had  come.  His 
eye  was  opened  upon  another  contest.  High  hopes  begat  noble 
designs.  Renowned  champions  were  in  the  field.  Lofty  ends  were 
to  be  accomplished,  and  noble  destinies  achieved.  A  mighty  con 
flict  of  opinion  was  to  follow  in  the  bloody  track  of  the  Revolution. 
Bold  and  heroic  thoughts  generated  diversity  of  sentiment,  and 
gave  birth  to  God-like  acts.  Interest,  deep  and  intense,  filled  every 
bosom.  All  were  launched  upon  a  pathless  and  an  unexplored  sea. 
The  polar  star  had  not  yet  risen.  "The  needle  of  Republican 
Destiny  was  quivering  in  the  doubtful  gale  of  Experiment."  The 
magnet  of  public  sentiment  must  be  tempered  to  the  pulse  and 
rivited  to  the  great  heart  of  the  Republic.  That  noble  object  is 
accomplished.  The  sound  of  discord  has  died  away.  Private 
interest  has  yielded  to  lofty  patriotism.  Light  has  burst  in  upon 
the  storm  and  spanned  the  heavens  with  a  bow  of  promise.  While 


64 

from  the  very  head  of  disorder,  Minerva-like,  sprang  that  mighty 
prodigy  of  wisdom  —  the  grand  Charter  of  American  Liberty — 
the  CONSTITUTION.  0!  glorious  consummation!  Happy!  thrice 
happy,  auspicious  day !  Little  thought  New  Hampshire  that  she 
was  then  nourishing  among  the  obscurities  of  her  rugged  mountains 
an  Olympian  mind,  which  was  yet  to  pour  its  light  in  one  intense 
and  concentrated  focus  upon  every  letter  of  that  sublime — and  let 
me  add — imperishable  Oracle!  Little  thought  she  that  in  her 
granite  soil  was  striking  deep  a  giant  palm,  which  should  yet  tower 
far  above  her  dizzy  mountains,  and  under  whose  sturdy  branches 
spreading  all  over  the  limits  of  a  continent,  should  repose,  insepa 
rably  bound  together  by  a  bright  fraternal  chain,  the  freest  and 
happiest  nation  on  the  globe. 

Trite  and  insipid  would  it  be  in  me  to  trace  anew  that  mighty 
genius  through  his  wonderful  career.  There  are  his  acts,  noble, 
lofty,  god-like !  They  are  their  own  historians !  There  are  his 
thoughts,  high,  heroic,  and  sublime !  They  stand  alone,  unequalled, 
unalloyed,  imperishable.  They  are  the  world's  legacy.  His  fame 
has  taken  the  pinions  of  ubiquity  ;  it  is  already  enchased  deep  in 
the  hearts  of  grateful  millions,  "and  there  it  will  remain  for  ever." 

The  great  American  Triumvirate  is  at  length  ended.  Clay,  and 
Calhoun,  and  Webster !  How  unlike  Crassus,  and  Pompey,  and 
CaBsar !  They  lived  for  glory,  and  power,  and  Empire ;  and  each 
in  turn  met  the  fatal  blow  of  the  assassin.  The  first  fell  by  the 
mad  revenge  of  a  foreign  foe.  The  ambition  of  the  latter  was  too 
strong  for  their  friendship.  From  the  gory  locks  of  Pompey,  Cae 
sar  turned  away  and  wept, — Ca3sar,  who  in  his  giant  strides  for 
Empire,  fell  beneath  the  dagger  of  "the  self  appointed  executioner 
of  his  country's  vengeance !"  How  marked  the  contrast !  How 
wide  the  difference !  Our  Triumvirs  lived  for  their  country,  la 
bored  for  its  institutions,  dedicated  the  ardor  of  youth,  the  power 
of  manhood,  and  the  wisdom  of  age,  to  its  sublime  and  sacred 
service.  And  when  Death,  the  tardy  assassin,  approached,  with 
faltering  step,  the  sanctuary  of  their  lives,  he  found  it  tenanted  by 


65 

no  ambitious  and  bloodstained  conquerors ;  its  arches  hung  with 
no  escutcheons  of  heraldric  blazonry ;  its  galleries  strung  with  no 
moldering  laurels,  or  worn  and  rust  clad  mail ;  its  porches  flashing 
wit'h  no  falchion  lances  of  chivalric  knights  ;  but  he  found  that  tem 
ple  swept  and  garnished  ;  the  aged  priests  at  its  altar  clothed  in  the 
pure  white  robes  of  virtue,  its  laurelled  arches  twined  with  ama 
ranth,  its  galleries  hung  thick  with  the  trophies  of  wisdom  and  elo 
quence,  and  its  ivied  porches  glittering  with  the  gems  of  immor 
tality.  The  Caesar  of  our  Triumvirate  fell  by  a  higher  decree 
than  the  sword  of  Brutus,  and  left  a  nation  of  Antonies  to  mourn 
his  fall. 

If  calumny,  and  detraction,  and  jealousy,  would  not  permit  him 
to  stand  at  the  head  of  the  Republic,  his  own  mighty  genius,  his 
noble  and  commanding  intellect,  his  broad  and  unwavering  patri 
otism,  have  made  him  the  enshrined  idol  of  a  nation's  heart — and 
won  for  him  an  incontestable  geatness  to  which  that  of  Dictator, 
or  Consul,  or  Tribune,  or  President,  are  poor  and  mean. 

Daniel  Webster's  character  was  the  arbiter  of  his  high  career. 
Such  a  character  will  be  great  without  honor.  Offices  and  emolu 
ments  do  not,  cannot  give  greatness.  They  can  only  sanction 
and  recognize  the  existence  of  that  wisdom  and  those  virtues  which 
can  alone  confer  an  official  rank  and  authority,  whatever  of  true 
honor  and  glory  they  possess. 

In  an  age  of  great  men,  he  who  by  superior  genius  rises  above 
or  stands  in  advance  of  his  age,  has  far  higher  claims  to  greatness 
than  he  who  stands  alone,  like  a  solitary  mountain  in  a  desert  plain, 
or  a  single  star,  sparkling  in  the  vault  of  night.  The  one,  by  its 
solitary  magnificence  may  seem  to  pierce  the  heavens  with  its 
Olympian  peak,  in  comparison  with  the  monotony  of  the  surround 
ing  waste v  The  other,  by  its  lonely  splendor,  may  attract  the  gaze 
and  win  the  admiration  of  the  world.  Yet  that  mountain  shall 
dwindle  to  insignificance,  when  seen  amid  the  myriad  towering 
summits  of  Alpine  grandeur, 

"  Soaring,  snow  clad,  through  their  native  sky, 
5      In  the  wild  pomp  of  mountain  majesty." 


66 

And  that  star  shall  lose  the  splendor  of  its  blaze,  when  the  cloud- 
curtain  is  removed,  and  a  million  orbs  flash  their  mingled  radiance 
across  its  glittering  beams.  So  Daniel  Webster,  standing  as  he 
did,  in  an  age  almost  unparalleled  in  the  annals  of  the  world,  for 
the  brilliancy  and  the  splendor  of  its  talent  and  its  worth  ;  in 
the  profoundness  of  its  philosophers,  the  purity  of  its  statesmen, 
the  magnificence  of  its  orators — an  age  which  has  opened  to 
posterity,  as  its  priceless  legacy,  the  deepest  and  richest  fountains 
of  intellectual  light  which  has  ever  burst  upon  the  world  ; — in  a 
word,  an  age  which  has  enshrined  more  of  true  worth  for  merited 
immortality  than  any  other  in  ihe^records  of  the  past,  illumined  as 
it  was  by  the  resplendent  genius  of  a  galaxy  which  Clay,  and  Cal- 
houn,  and  Adams,  and  Hamilton,  and  Hayne,  and  Wirt,  and  Ames, 
and  Everett,  and  Story,  enlightened  with  their  counsels,  brightened 
with  their  wisdom,  and  electrified  with  their  eloquence. 

In  such  an  age,  the  Augustan  age  of  America,  Daniel  Webster 
was  the  Cicero.  In  such  a  constellation,  the  versatility  of  his  talents, 
the  splendor  of  his  genius,  the  grandeur  of  his  philosophy,  and  the 
prophet-like  ken  of  his  statesmanship,  all  congregated  in  one  mighty 
mind,  clothed  him  with  a  light,  which,  while  it  throws  a  halo 
around  the  genius  of  his  age,  shall  light  up,  by  the  glitter  of  its  re 
flected  beams  the  darkest  page  in  the  unpenned  history  of  the 
world. 

His  was  a  great  and  celebrated  name  : 

"  Clarum  et  venerabile  nomen  geutibus, 
Et  multum  nostrce  quod  proderat  urbi." 

Daniel  Webster  was  great  in  all  the  elements  of  his  character. 
Great  in  oxigjinal  mental  strength — great  in  varied  and  vast  ac 
quirements — great  in  quick  and  keen  perception — great  in  subtle, 
logical  discrimination — great  in  force  of  thought — great  in  power 
of  intense  and  rigid  analysis — great  in  rare  and  beautiful  combi 
nation  of  talent — great  in  ability  to  make  an  effort  and  command 
his  power — great  in  range  and  acuteness  of  vision,  he  could  see 
like  a  prophet.  Hence,  his  decision  of  character — his  bold,  manly 


67 

and  independent  thought — his  whole  sovereignty  of  mind.  No 
man,  probably,  ever  lived,  who  could  calculate  with  such  mathe 
matical  certainty  the  separate  effect  of  human  actions,  or  the  intri 
cate,  combined  and  complicated  influence  of  e\ery  movement, 
social,  political,  or  personal.  He  could  define  and  determine  the 
very  destiny  of  influence.  With  him  cause  and  effect  wrere  coeval. 
He  was  the  very  Oracle  of  Philosophy, — high,  noble,  Godlike  Phi 
losophy, — -not  that  technical  and  disputaceous  philosophy,  which  is 
so  filled  up  with  polemic  subtleties  as  to  isolate  its  influence  and 
neutralize  its  effect  on  human  destiny, — but  a  practical,  utilitarian 
philosophy,— one  which  weaves  its  influence  into  the  very  warp 
and  woof  of  human  actions,  and  pervades  the  whole  fabric  of  life. 
This  is  the  key  to  the  problem  of  his  greatness,  an  explanation  to 
the  miracle  of  his  power.  We  are  proud  of  his  greatness,  because 
it  is  American — wholly  American !  The  very  impulses  of  his  heart 
were  American.  The  spirit  of  American  Institutions  had  infused 
itself  into  his  life — had  become  a  part  of  his  being.  He  was  proud 
of  his  country, — proud  of  her  commerce, — proud  of  her  manufac 
tures, — proud  of  her  agriculture, — proud  of  her  institutions  of  art  / 
and  science, — and  proud  of  her  wealth,  her  resources  and  her  labor. 
And  all  in  turn  were  proud  of  him. 

His  patriotism  was  not  bounded  by  the  narrow  limits  of  sectional 
interest,  not  hemmed  in  by  State  lines,  nor  regulated  and  biassed 
by  local  policies.  It  \vas  as  broad  as  his  country.  He  knew  a 
North  and  a  South,  an  East  and  a  West ;  but  he  knew  them  only 
as  one, — "One  and  Inseparable!"  _^ 

Though  differing  in  name,  and  separated  by  territorial  barriers, 
yet  warmed  to  life  by  the  same  breath,  nourished  by  the  same 
hand,  protected  by  the  same  care,  reared  by  the  same  power,  united 
by  a  common  bond,  possessing  a  common  hope,  a  common  aim,  a 
common  interest  and  a  common  destiny.  To  preserve  that  bond, 
to  secure  that  hope,  to  protect  that  interest,  and  to  guard  that  des 
tiny,  was  the  high  mission  of  his  life.  Daniel  Webster  did  not  be 
long  to  New  Hampshire,  nor  to  Massachusetts,  nor  to  South  Caro- 


68 

lina;  but  to  ALL.  His  sympathies  were  as  true  and  as  broad  as 
his  patriotism,  and  both  kept  pace  with  the  ever  advancing  Ter- 
minus  of  his  country's  Empire. 

P  olitics,  like  philosophy,  has  ever  had  its  schools.     Like  philoso 
phy  too,  it  has  had  its  Platos,  its  Zenos,  and  its  Aristotles.    Daniel 
Webster  was  the  Plato  of  that  great  American  school,  who  have 
ever  advocated  "  The  Indivisible  Unity  of  this  Confederacy,"  and 
Protection  to  American  Industry,  in   all   her  mighty  avenues, — 
Commercial,  Manufacturing,  Agricultural  and   Mechanical.     He 
would  throw  the  broad,  strong  shield  of  Law  around  the  GENIUS  OF 
LABOR,  consecrated  by  the  GENIUS  OF  LIBERTY.  In  this  he  saw  the 
only  response  to  that  sublime  interrogation — "  What  has  conferred 
upon  poverty  itself  a  power  and  a  dignity  which  wealth,  and  pomp, 
and  royalty,  cannot  secure  ?"     The  GENIUS  O.F  LABOR,  consecrated 
by  the  GENIUS  OF  LIBERTY,  is  the  clarion  voice  echoed  from  the 
hamlets   in  a  million  dales,  and  the  cities  on  a  thousand  plains ! 
The  GENIUS  OF  LABOR,  consecrated  by  the  GENIUS  OF  LIBERTY,  is 
the  joyous  response  of  twenty  millions  of  happy  and  exulting  hearts. 
The  GENIUS  OF  LABOR,  consecrated  by  the  GENIUS  OF  THAT  LIBERTY, 
which    has  written,  "  COLUMBIA,  HAPPY  AND  FREE  !"  as  with  the 
finger  of  Ubiquity,  on  the  pure  canvass  of  ten  thousand  flags  of 
Commerce — warbles  it  in  the  hum  of  her  million  spindles,  repeats 
it  in  the  rattle  of  her  myriad  looms,  chants  it  in  the  sound  of  the 
ax  and  the  hammer,  in  her  legion  workshops  and  her  reddening 
forges,  sounds  it  in  the  low  bass  of  the  mill  wheel,  and  prolongs  it  in 
the  united  and  joyous  chorus  of  her  unnumbered  avenues  of  indus 
try.     The  Genius  of  Labor  has  made  the  son  of  toil  a  peasant, — 
consecrated  by  the  Genius  of  Liberty,  it  has  made  him  a  Prince! 
And  beneath  the  resplendent  dome  of  this  immense  and  magnificent 
Temple  of  Freedom,  whose  brilliance  reflects  the  accumulated  light 
of  ages,  he  would  see  them  inseparably  bound  together!     LIBERTY 
and  LABOR  !    "  Live !  incomparable  pair !"  Let  thy  hands  be  linked 
in  indissoluble  union.     Let  nothing  separate  thee  !  Let  these  Sister 
Genii  ever  walk  togethe  r,  like  Mercy  and  Truth ;  let  them  meet 


69 

each  other,  like  Righteousness  and  Peace  ,  let  them  kiss  each. other. 
Like  Ruth  to  Naomi — let  each  say  to  the  other,  "  Where  thou 
goest  I  will  go,  and  where  thou  diest  I  will  die !"  In  fine,  he 
would  present  to  the  world  the  sublime  realization  of  a  Republic, 
surpassing  in  grandeur  and  purity  the  most  brilliant  ideals  of  Py 
thagoras,  or  the  noblest  day  dreams  of  Plato. 

As  a  diplomatist,  the  world  has  never  seen  his  equal.  He  wielded       / 
the  pen  of  the  nation  with  a  power,  a  dignity  and  a  grandeur,  wholly  A 
unparalleled  in  the  annals  of  diplomacy.     When  clouds  and  dark 
ness  gloomed  the  heavens, — when  the  storm  had  gathered,  ready 
to  burst  in  fury, — when  the  whole  Republic  every  moment  feared 
the  mighty  convulsive  shock  which  should  mar  and  shatter  the  fa 
bric  of  their  hopes, — then,  standing  on  the  summit  of  the  trembling 
Acropolis,  the  Angel  of  Deliverance,  he  threw  his  burning  chain 
over  the  cloud  and  drew  the  lightning  in  safety  from  the  heavens ! 

But  it  is  as  Senator  in  that  grand  Forum  of  the  Nations  congre 
gated  wisdom,  power  and  eloquence,  we  see  him  towering  in  all 
the  majesty  and  supremacy  of  his  greatness — the  mighty  bulwark 
of  the  Nation's  hope — the  august  arbiter  of  the  Nation's  Destiny. 
How  grand !  how  sublime !  how  imperial !  how  god-like  !  It  was 
here  that  he  occupied  the  uncontested  throne  of  human  great 
ness  ;  exhibited  himself  to  the  world  in  all  his  grand  and  magnificent 
proportions — wrore  a  crown  studded  with  gems  that  an  Emperor 
might  covet — won  an  immortality  of  envied  honor,  and  covered 
himself  with  a  glory,  brighter  and  purer  and  higher  than  a  con 
queror  has  ever  been  permitted  to  achieve.  Here  he  proved  him 
self  the  conservator  of  Constitutional  Liberty,  and  bequeathed  to 
history  an  appellation,  every  letter  of  which  shall  glow  with  grateful 
undiminished  lustre,  when  the  hand  that  penned  it  shall  be  forgotten 
and  the  deeds  it  records  shall  be  buried  among  the  dim  legends  of 
tradition.  It  was  in  this  high  arena  that  he  "became  enamored  of 
glory,  and  was  admitted  to  her  embrace." 

Eloquence  was  his  panoply — his  very  stepping  stone  to  fame. 
She  twined  upon  his  brow  a  wreath  which  antiquity  might  covet — 


70 

inspired  his  soul  with  a  Divinity  which  shaped  his  lofty  destiny,  and 
threw  a  light  upon  his  track  of  glory  which  no  fortune  could 
obscure.  She  bore  him  up  to  the  Pisgah  of  Renown,  where  he  sat 
solitary  and  alone,  the  monarch  of  a  realm,  whose  conqueror  wears 
no  bloody  laurels — whose  fair  domain  no  carnage  can  despoil,  and 
inAvhose  bright  crown  no  pillaged  pearls  are  set. 
}S  As  a  Forensic  orator,  I  know  of  no  age,  past  or  present,  which  can 
boast  his  superior.  He  united  the  boldness  and  energy  of  the  Gre 
cian,  and  the  grandeur  and  strength  of  the  Reman,  to  an  original, 
sublime  simplicity,  which  neither  Grecian  nor  Roman  possessed. 
He  did  not  deal  in  idle  declamati  on  and  lofty  expression ;  his  ideas 
were  not  e  mbalmed  in  rhetorical  embellishments,  nor  buried  up  in 
the  superfluous  tinselry  of  metaphor  and  trcpe.  He  clothed  them 
for  the  occasion,  and  if  the  crisis  demanded,  they  stood  forth  naked, 
in  all  their  native  majesty,  armed  with  a  power  which  would  not 
bend  to  the  passion,  but  only  stooped  to  conquer  the  reason.  Sub 
lime,  indeed,  it  was  to  see  that  giant  mind  when  roused  in  all  its 
grandeur,  sweep  over  the  fields  of  reason  and  imagination,  bearing 
down  all  opposition,  as  with  the  steady  and  resistless  power  of  the 
ocean  billows, — to  see  the  eye,  the  brow,  the  gesture,  the  whole  man 
speaking  with  an  utterance  to  sublime  for  language — a  logic  too 
lofty  for  speech.  He  spoke  like  a  Divinity — 

•'  Each  conception  was  a  heavenly  guest, 

A  ray  of  immortality, — and  stood 

Starlike,  around,  until  they  gathered  to  a  God  1" 

The  highest  honors  America  can  confer  upon  her  noblest  son, 
can  prove  but  her  bankruptcy.  She  can  never  rear  a  colossal 
monument  worthy  of  his  towering  genius.  He  needs  no  marble 
column  or  sculptured  urn  to  perpetuate  his  memory,  or  tell  his 
worth  to  rising  generations. 

Exegit  "  monumentum  aere  perenniutf 
Regalique  situ  pyramidum  altius," 

His  fame  shall  outlive  marble,  for  when  time  shall  efface  every 


71 

letter  from  the  crumbling  stone, — yea,  when  the  marble  itself  shall 
dissolve  to  dust,  his  memory  shall  be  more  deeply  encased  in  the 
hearts  ol  unborn  millions,  and  from  his  tomb  shall  arise  a  sacred 
incense  which  shall  garnish  the  concave  of  his  native  sky  with  the 
brightest  galaxy  of  posthumous  fame,  and  on  its  broad  arch  of 
studded  magnificence  shall  be  braided  in  "  characters  of  living  light/' 
Daniel  Webster !  the  great  Defender  of  the  Constitution ! 

The  nation  mourns,  and  well  it  may.  He  has  left  a  void  which 
none  can  fill — laid  forever  at  rest  in  the  humble  grave,  by  the  side 
of  the  sea  —  the  wild  waves  sing  his  requiem.  With  Mount 
Vernon  arid  Ashland,  his  tomb  will  be  a  place  wrhere  men  in  all 
coming  time  will  resort,  to  bring  away  memorials  from  the  sanctu 
ary  of  the  mighty  dead.  Patriotism,  when  it  desponds,  will  go 
there,  look  and  live ;  factional  strife  and  sectional  jealousy  will  feel 
rebuked  when  they  visit  the  last  resting  place  of  him  whose  labors 
of  a  lifetime  were  to  transmit  the  blessings  of  life  and  liberty,  and 
the  pursuit  of  happiness  which  God  ordained  should  first  be  made 
manifest  in  America.  Not  far  from  his  grave  is  that  hallowed  spot 
in  American  history,  where — 

"  The  heavy  night  hung  dark 

The  hills  and  waters  o'er, 
As  a  band  of  exiles  moored  their  bark 

On  wild  New  England's  shore." 

The  beams  of  the  setting  sun  will  fall  with  a  mellowed  light  on 
the  spot  where  the  majestic  form  of  Webster  moulders  back  to 
dust,  and  where  the  anthem  of  the  Puritan  was  heard  as  he  came 
to  build  an  altar  to  his  God,  and  find  a  quiet  tomb. 

It  is  not  with  the  vain  hope  of  adding  a  single  ray  to  the  already 
dazzling  focus  of  his  fame,  that  we  have  attempted  to  eulogize  his 
worth ;  but  with  the  high  purpose  of  testifying  those  feelings  of 
reverence  and  admiration,  next  to  idolatry,  which,  in  the  contem 
plation  of  so  sublime  a  character,  burn  in  the  bosom  of  every 
American  youth,  that  we  have  dared  to  approach  the  tomb  of  buried 
greatness,  and  twine  a  single  laurel  in  the  cypress  that  overhangs 


72 

his  sepulchre  of  glory.  May  the  worshipper  of  after  years  approach 
that  hallowed  shrine  with  no  empty  offering  of  idle  curiosity, — no 
vain  and  soulless  orisons, — but  with  grateful  and  devout  homage 
may  the  pilgrims  of  another  age  journey  with  reverent  adoration 
to  that  consecrated  spot,  and,  arched  upon  its  humble  tablet,  read, 
in  that  simple  but  significant  epitah,  "  I  still  liver — the  high,  pro 
phetic  record  of  the  last  and  sublimest  victory  of  his  life — that  of 
the  unblenching  spirit  over  death. 

The  sun  that  illumined  that  planet  of  clay, 

Had  sunk  in  the  west  of  an  unclouded  day, 

And  the  cold  dews  of  Death  stood  like  diamonds  of  light 

Thickly  set  in  the  pale  dusky  forehead  of  night ; 

From  each  gleamed  a  ray  of  that  fetterless,  soul, 

Which  had  bursted  its  prison,  despising  control, 

And  careering  above,  o'er  earth's  darkness  and  gloom, 

Inscribed,  "  I  still  live"  on  the  arch  of  the  tomb. 

The  gleam  of  that  promise  shall  brighten  the  page 
Of  the  Prophet  and  Statesman  thro'  each  rolling  age; 
He  lives  I  prince  and  peasant  shall  join  the  acclaim  ; 
No  fortune  can  make  him  the  martyr  of  Fame. 
He  lives  !  from  the  grave  of  the  Patriot  Greek 
Comes  the  voice  of  the  dead,  which  tho'  silent,  shall  speak  • 
Light  leaps  from  the  cloud  which  has  deepened  her  gloom, 
And  flashes  its  glance  on  the  arch  of  his  tomb  I 

He  lives  !  ever  lives,  in  the  hearts  of  the  Free  ; 
The  wing  of  his  fame  spreads  across  the  broad  sea  ; 
He  lives  where  the  banner  of  Freedom's  unfurled  ; 
The  pride  of  New  England— the  wealth  of  the  world  I 
Thou  land  of  tho  Pilgrim  I  how  hallowed  the  bed 
"Where  thy  Patriot  sleeps,  and  thy  heroes  have  bled  1 
Let  age  after  age  in  perennial  bloom 
Braid  the  light  of  Lhy  stars  on  the  arch  of  his  tomb  I 


• 
73 


ADAMS  AND  JEFFERSON, 

DELIVEKED   AUGUST  2D,    1826. 


THIS  is  an  unaccustomed  spectacle.  For  the  first  time,  fellow  citizens, 
badges  of  mourning  shroud  the  columns  and  overhang  the  arches  of  this  Hall. 
These  walls,  which  were  consecrated,  so  long  ago,  to  the  cause  of  American 
liberty,  which  witnessed  her  infant  struggles,  and  rung  with  the  shouts  of  her 
earliest  victories,  proclaim  now  that  distinguished  friends  and  champions  of 
that  great  cause  have  fallen.  It  is  right  that  it  should  be  thus.  The  tears 
which  flow,  and  the  honors  that  are  paid,  when  the  Founders  of  the  Republic 
die,  give  hope  that  the  Republic  itself  may  be  immortal.  It  is  fit,  that  by 
public  assembly  and  solemn  observance,  by  anthem  and  by  eulogy,  we  com 
memorate  the  services  of  national  benefactors,  extol  their  virtues,  and  render 
thanks  to  God  for  eminent  blessings,  early  given  and  long  continued,  to  our 
favored  country. 

ADAMS  and  JEFFERSON  are  now  no  more;  and  we  are  assembled,  fellow 
citizens,  the  aged,  the  middle  aged  and  the  young,  by  the  spontaneous  impulse 
of  all,  under  the  authority  of  the  municipal  government,  with  the  presence  of 
the  chief  magistrate  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  others  its  official  representa 
tives,  the  university,  and  the  learned  societies,  to  bear  our  part,  in  those  mani 
festations  of  respect  and  gratitude  which  universally  pervade  the  land.  ADAMS 
and  JEFFERSON  are  no  more.  On  our  fiftieth  anniversary,  the  great  day  of 
National  Jubilee,  in  the  very  hour  of  public  rejoicing,  in  the  midst  of  echoing 
and  re-echoing  voices  of  thanksgiving,  while  their  own  names  were  on  all 
tongues,  they  took  their  flight,  together  to  the  world  of  spirits. 

If  it  be  true  that  no  one  can  safely  be  pronounced  happy  while  he  lives ;  if 
that  event  which  terminates  life  can  alone  crown  its  honors  and  its  glory,  what 
felicity  is  here !  The  great  Epic  of  their  lives,  how  happily  concluded  !  Poe 
try  itself  has  hardly  closed  illustrious  lives,  and  finished  the  career  of  earthly 
renown,  by  such  a  consummation.  If  we  had  the  power,  we  could  not  wish  to 
reverse  this  dispensation  of  the  Divine  Providence.  The  great  objects  of  lifo 
were  accomplished,  the  drama  was  ready  to  be  closed ;  it  has  closed ;  our  pat 
riots  have  fallen ;  but  so  fallen,  at  such  age,  with  such  coincidence,  on  such  a 
day,  that  we  cannot  rationally  lament  that  that  end  has  come,  which  we  knew 
could  not  be  long  deferred. 

Neither  of  these  great  men,  fellow  citizens,  could  have  died,  at  any  time, 
without  leaving  an  immense  void  in  our  American  society.  They  have  been 
so  intimately,  and  for  so  long  a  time  blended  with  the  history  of  the  country, 
especially  so  united,  in  our  thoughts  and  recollections,  with  the  events  of  tho 


74 

Revolution,  that  the  death  of  either  would  have  touched  the  strings  of  public 
sympathy.  We  should  have  felt  that  one  great  link,  connecting  us  with 
former  times,  was  broken ;  that  we  had  lost  something  more,  as  it  were,  of  the 
presence  of  the  Revolution  itself,  and  of  the  act  of  independence,  and  were 
driven  on,  by  another  great  remove,  from  the  days  of  our  country's  early  dis 
tinction,  to  meet  posterity,  and  to  mix  with  the  future.  Like  the  mariner, 
whom  the  ocean  and  the  winds  carry  along,  till  the  stars  which  have  directed 
his  course,  and  lighted  his  pathless  way,  descend,  one  by  one,  beneath  the 
rising  horizon,  we  should  have  felt  that  the  stream  of  time  had  borne  us 
onward,  till  another  great  luminary,  whose  light  had  cheered  us,  and  whose 
guidance  we  had  followed,  had  sunk  away  from  our  sight. 

But  the  concurrence  of  their  death,  on  the  anniversary  of  Independence,  has 
naturally  awakened  stronger  emotions.  Both  had  been  presidents,  both  had 
lived  to  great  age,  both  were  early  patriots,  and  both  were  distinguished  and 
ever  honored  by  their  immediate  agency  in  the  act  of  independence.  It  can 
not  but  seem  striking  and  extraordinary,  that  these  two  should  live  to  see  the 
fiftieth  year  from  the  date  of  that  act ;  that  they  should  complete  that  year ;  and 
that  then,  on  the  day  which  had  fast  linked  forever  their  own  fame  with  their 
country's  glory,  the  heavens  should  open  to  receive  them  both  at  once.  As 
their  lives  themselves  were  the  gifts  of  Providence,  who  is  not  willing  to  recog 
nize  in  their  happy  termination  as  well  as  in  their  long  continuance,  proofs  that 
our 'country,  and  its  benefactors,  are  objects  of  His  care  ? 

ADAMS  and  JEFFERSOX,  I  have  said,  are  no  more.  As  human  beings 
indeed,  they  are  no  more.  They  are  no  more,  as  in  1776,  bold  and  fearless  ad 
vocates  of  independence ;  no  more  as  on  subsequent  periods,  the  head  of  the 
government ;  no  more  as  we  have  recently  seen  them,  aged  and  venerable  ob 
jects  of  admiration  and  regard.  They  are  no  more.  They  are  dead.  But 
how  little  is  there,  of  the  great  and  good,  which  can  die !  To  their  country 
they  yet  live,  and  live  forever.  They  live  in  all  that  perpetuates  the  remem 
brance  of  men  on  earth ;  in  the  recorded  proofs  of  their  own  great  actions  in 
the  offspring  of  their  intellect,  in  the  deep  engraved  lines  of  public  gratitude, 
and  in  the  respect  and  homage  of  mankind.  They  live  in  their  example ;  and 
they  live,  emphatically,  and  will  live  in  the  influence  which  their  lives  and 
efforts,  their  principles  and  opinions,  now  exercise,  and  will  continue  to  exer 
cise,  on  the  affairs  of  men,  not  only  in  their  own  country,  but  throughout  the 
civilized  world.  A  superior  and  commanding  human  intellect,  a  truly  great 
man,  when  Heaven  vouchsafes  so  rare  a  gift,  is  not  a  temporary  flame,  burning 
bright  for  a  while,  and  then  expiring,  giving  place  to  returning  darkness.  It 
is  rather  a  spark  of  fervent  heat,  as  well  as  radiant  light,  with  power  to  enkin 
dle  the  common  mass  of  human  mind ;  so  that  when  it  glimmers,  in  its  own 
decay,  and  finally  goes  out  in  death,  no  night  follows;  but  it  leaves  the  world 
all  light,  all  on  fire,  from  the  potent  contact  of  its  own  spirit.  Bacon  died ; 
but  the  human  understanding,  roused  by  the  touch  of  his  miraculous  wand,  to 
a  perception  of  the  true  philosophy,  and  the  just  mode  of  inquiring  after  truth, 
has  kept  on  its  course,  successfully  and  gloriously.  J^ewton  died ;  yet  the 
courses  of  the  spheres  are  still  known,  and  they  yet  move  on,  in  the  orbits 
which  he  saw,  and  described  for  them,  in  the  infinity  of  space. 

No  two  men  now  live,  fellow-citizens,  perhaps  it  may  be  doubted,  whether 
any  two  men  have  ever  lived,  in  one  age,  who,  more  than  those  we  now  com 
memorate,  have  impressed  their  own  sentiments,  in  regard  to  politics  and  gov 
ernment,  on  mankind,  infused  their  own  opinions  more  deeply  into  the  opinions 
of  others,  or  given  a  more  lasting  direction  to  the  current  of  human  thought. 


75 

Their  work  dotli  not  perish  with  them.  The  tree  which  they  assisted  to  plant, 
will  flourish,  although  they  water  it  and  protect  it  no  longer ;  for  it  has  struck 
its  roots  deep,  it  has  sent  them  to  the  very  centre ;  no  storm,  not  of  force  to 
burst  the  orb,  can  overturn  it;  its  branches  spread  wide;  they  stretch  their 
protecting  arms  broader  and  broader,  and  its  top  is  destined  to  reach  the 
heavens.  We  are  not  deceived.  There  is  no  delusion  here.  No  age  witf 
come,  in  which  it  will  cease  to  be  seen  and  felt,  on  either  continent,  that  ? 
mighty  step,  a  great  advance,  not  only  in  American  affairs,  but  in  human 
affairs,  was  made  on  the  4th  of  July,  1776.  And  no  age  will  come,  we  trust 
so  ignorant  or  so  unjust,  as  not  to  see  and  acknowledge  the  efficient  agency 
of  those  we  now  honor,  for  producing  that  momentous  event. 

We  are  not  assembled,  therefore,  fellow  citizens,  as  men  overwhelmed  with 
calamity  by  the  sudden  disruption  of  the  ties  of  friendship  or  affection,  or  as 
in  despair  for  the  Republic,  by  the  untimely  blighting  of  its  hopes.  Death 
has  not  surprised  us  by  an  unseasonable  blow.  We  have,  indeed,  seen  the 
tomb  close,  but  it  has  closed  only  over  mature  years,  over  long  protracted 
public  service,  over  the  weakness  of  age,  and  over  life  itself  only  when  the 
ends  of  living  had  been  fulfilled.  These  suns,  as  they  rose  slowly,  and 
steadily,  amidst  clouds  and  storms,  in  their  ascendant,  so  they  have  not  rushed 
from  their  meridian,  to  sink  suddenly  in  the  west.  Like  the  mildness,  the 
serenity,  the  continuing  benignity  of  a  summer's  day,  they  have  gone  down 
with  slow  descending,  grateful,  long  lingering  light ;  and  now  that  they  are 
beyond  the  visible  margin  of  the  world,  good  omens  cheer  us  from  "  the 
bright  track  of  their  fiery  car  !" 

There  were  many  points  of  similarity  in  the  lives  and  fortunes  of  theso 
great  men.     They  belonged  to  the  same  profession,  and  had  pursued  its  stu 
dies  and  its  practice,  for  unequal  lengths  of  time  indeed,  but  with  diligence 
and  effect.     Both  were  learned  and  able  lawyers.     They  were  natives  arid 
inhabitants,  respectively,  of  those  two  of  the  colonies,  which,  at  the  revolution, 
were  the  largest  and  most  powerful,  and  which  naturally  had  a  lead  in  the 
political  affairs  of  the  times.     When  the  colonies  became,  in  some  degree, 
united,  by  the  assembling  of  a  general  congress,  they  were  brought  to  act  to 
gether,  in  its  deliberations,  not  indeed  at  the  same  time,  but  both  at  early 
periods.     Each  had  already  manifested  his  attachment  to  the  cause  of  tho 
country,  as  well  as  his  ability  to  maintain  it,  by  printed  addresses,  public 
speeches,  extensive  correspondence,  and  whatever  other  mode  could  be  adopted, 
for  the  purpose  of  exposing  the  encroachments  of  the  British  parliament  an«J 
animating  the  people  to  a  manly  resistance.     Both  were  not  only  decided,  but 
early  friends  of  Independence.     While  others  yet  doubted,  they  were  resolved 
where  others  hesitated,  they  pressed  forward.     They  were  both  members  oi 
the  committee  for  preparing  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  they  con 
stitutecl  the  sub-committee,  appointed  by  the  other  members  to  make  th$ 
draught.     They  left  their  seats  in  congress,  being  called  to  other  public  em 
ployments,  at  periods  not  remote  from  each  other,  although  one  of  them  re 
turned  to  it,  afterwards  for  a  short  time.     Neither  of  them  was  of  the  assem 
bly  of  great  men  which  formed  the  present  constitution,  and  neither  was  ai 
any  time  member  of  congress  under  its  provisions.     Both  have  been  public 
ministers  abroad,  both  vice-presidents,  and  both  presidents.     These  coinciden 
ces  are  now  singularly  crowned  and  completed.     They  have  died,  together 
and  they  died  on  the  anniversary  of  liberty. 

When  many  of  us  were  last  in  this  place,  fellow  citizens,  it  was  on  the  day 
of  that  anniversary.  We  were  met  to  enjoy  the  festivities  belonging  to  the 
occasion,  and  to  manifest  our  grateful  homage  to  our  political  fathers. 


76 

We  did  not,  we  could  not  here,  forget  our  venerable  neighbor  of 
We  knew  that  we  were  standing,  at  a  time  of  high  and  palmy  prosperity,  where 
he  had  stood,  in  the  hours  of  utmost  peril;  that  we  saw  nothing  but  liberty 
and  security,  where  he  had  met  the  frown  of  power ;  that  we  were  enjoying 
everything,  where  he  had  hazarded  everything ;  'and  just  and  sincere  plauditi 
arose  to  his  name,  from  the  crowds  which  filled  this  area,  and  hung  over  thea 
galleries.  He  whose  grateful  duty  it  was  to  speak  to  us,  on  that  day,  of  th< 
virtues  of  our  fathers,  had  indeed  admonished  us  that  time  and  years  wen 
about  to  level  his  venerable  frame  with  the  dust.  But  he  bade  us  hope,  tha 
"  the  sound  of  a  nation's  joy,  rushing  from  our  cities,  ringing  from  our  valleys 
echoing  from  our  hills,  might  yet  break  the  silence  of  his  aged  ear;  that  th» 
rising  blessings  of  grateful  millions  might  yet  visit,  with  glad  light,  his  decay 
ing  vision."  Alas !  that  vision  was  then  closing  forever.  Alas !  the  silenc* 
which  was  then  settling  on  that  aged  ear,  was  an  everlasting  silence !  For  lo 
in  the  very  moment  of  our  festivities,  his  freed  spirit  ascended  to  God  who 
gave  it!  Human  aid  and  human  solace  terminate  at  the  grave;  or  we  would 
gladly  have  borne  him  upward,  on  a  nation's  outspread  hands ;  we  would 
have  accompanied  him,  and  with  the  blessings  of  millions  and  the  prayers  of 
millions,  commended  him  to  the  divine  favor. 

While  still  indulging  our  thoughts  on  the  coincidence  of  the  death  of  this 
venerable  man  with  the  anniversary  of  independence,  we  learn  that  Jefferson, 
too,  has  fallen ;  and  that  these  aged  patriots,  these  illustrious  fellow-laborers, 
had  left  our  world  together.  May  not  such  events  raise  the  suggestion  that 
they  are  not  undesigned,  and  that  Heaven  does  so  order  things,  as  sometimes 
to  attract  strongly  the  attention,  and  excite  the  thoughts  of  men  ?  The  occur 
rence  has  added  new  interest  to  our  anniversary,  and  will  be  remembered  in 
ill  time  to  come. 

The  occasion,  fellow-citizens,  requires  some  account  of  the  lives  and  servi 
ces  of  JOHN  ADAMS  and  THOMAS  JEFFERSON.  This  duty  must  necessarily  be 
performed  with  great  brevity,  and  in  the  discharge  of  it  I  shall  be  obliged  to 
confine  myself,  principally,  to  those  parts  of  their  history  and  character  which 
belonged  to  them  as  public  men. 

JOHN  ADAMS  was  born  at  Quincy,  then  part  of  the  ancient  town  of  Brain - 
tree,  on  the  19th  of  October,  (Old  Style)  1735.  He  was  a  descendant  of 
the  Puritans,  his  ancestors  having  early  emigrated  from  England,  and  settled 
in  Massachusetts.  Discovering  early  a  strong  love  of  reading  and  of  knowl 
edge,  together  with  marks  of  great  strength  and  activity  of  mind,  proper  o^;: 
was  taken  by  his  worthy  father,  to  provide  for  his  education.  He  pursued  his 
youthful  studies  in  Braintree,  under  Mr.  Marsh,  a  teacher  whose  fortune  it  was 
that  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  as  well  as  the  subject  of  these  remarks,  should  receive 
from  him  his  instruction  in  the  rudiments  of  classical  literature.  Having  been 
admitted,  in  1751,  a  member  of  Harvard  College,  Mr.  ADAMS  was  graduated, 
in  course,  1755;  and  on  the  catalogue  of  that  institution,  his  name,  at  the 
time  of  his  death,  was  second  among  the  living  Alumni,  being  preceded  only 
by  that  of  the  venerable  Holyoke.  With  what  degree  of  reputation  he  left 
the  University,  is  not  now  precisely  known.  We  know  only  that  he  was  dis 
tinguished,  in  a  class  which  numbered  Locke  and  Hemen  way  among  its  mem 
bers.  Choosing  the  law  for  his  profession,  he  commenced  and  prosecuted  its 
studies  at  Worcester,  under  the  direction  of  Samuel  Putnam,  a  gentleman  whom 
he  has  himself  described  as  an  acute  man,  an  able  and  learned  lawyer,  and  as 
in  large  professional  practice  at  that  time.  In  1758,  he  was  admitted  to  the 
bar,  and  commenced  business  in  Braintree.  He  is  understood  to  have  made 


77 

his  first  considerable  effort,  or  to  have  attained  his  first  signal  success,  at  Ply 
mouth,  on  one  of  those  occasions  which  furnish  the  earliest  opportunity  for 
distinction  to  many  young  men  of  the  profession,  a  jury  trial,  and  a  criminal 
cause.  His  business  naturally  grew  with  his  reputation,  and  his  residence  in 
the  vicinity  afforded  the  opportunity,  as  his  growing  eminence  gave  the  power, 
of  entering  on  the  larger  field  of  practice  which  the  capital  presented.  In 
1766,  he  removed  his  residence  to  Boston,  still  continuing  his  attendance  on 
the  neighboring  circuits,  and  not  unfrequently  called  to  remote  parts  of  the 
Province.  In  1770  his  professional  firmness  was  brought  to  a  test  of  some 
severity,  on  the  application  of  the  British  officers  and  soldiers  to  undertake 
their  defence,  on  the  trial  of  the  indictments  found  against  them  on  account 
of  the  transactions  of  the  memorable  5th  of  March.  He  seems  to  have 
thought,  on  this  occasion,  that  a  man  can  no  more  abandon  the  proper  duties 
of  his  profession,  than  he  can  abandon  other  duties.  The  event  proved,  that 
as  he  judged  well  for  his  own  reputation,  so  he  judged  well,  also,  for  the  in 
terest  and  permanent  fame  of  his  country.  The  result  of  that  trial  proved 
that  notwithstanding  the  high  degree  of  excitement  then  existing,  in  conse 
quence  of  the  measures  of  the  British  government,  a  jury  of  Massachusetts 
would  not  deprive  the  most  reckless  enemies,  even  the  officers  of  that  standing 
army,  quartered  among  them,  which  they  so  perfectly  abhorred,  of  any  part 
of  that  protection  which  the  law,  in  its  mildest  and  most  indulgent  interpre 
tation,  afforded  to  persons  accused  of  crimes. 

Without  pursuing  MR.  ADAM'S  professional  course  further,  suffice  it  to  say, 
that  on  the  first  establishment  of  the  judicial  tribunals  under  the  authority 
of  the  State,  in  1776,  he  received  an  offer  of  the  high  and  responsible  station 
of  Chief  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court.  But  he  was  destined  for  another 
and  a  different  career.  From  early  life  the  bent  of  his  mind  was  toward  pol 
itics;  a  propensity,  which  the  state  of  the  times,  if  it  did  not  create,  doubtless, 
very  much  strengthened.  Public  subjects  must  have  occupied  the  thoughts 
and  filled  up  the  conversation  in  the  circles  in  which  he  then  moved ;  and  the 
interesting  questions,  at  that  time  just  arising,  could  not  but  seize  on  a  mind, 
like  his,  ardent  sanguine  and  patriotic.  I'he  letter,  fortunately  preserved, 
written  by  him  at  Worcester,  so  early  as  the  12th  of  October,  1755,  is  a  proof 
of  very  comprehensive  views,  and  uncommon  depth  of  reflection,  in  a  young 
man  not  yet  quite  twenty.  In  this  letter  he  predicted  the  transfer  of  power, 
and  the  establishment  of  a  new  seat  of  empire  in  America ;  he  predicted, 
also,  the  increase  of  population  in  the  colonies;  and  anticipated  their  naval 
distinction,  and  foretold  that  all  Europe,  combined,  could  not  subdue  them. 
All  this  is  said,  not  on  a  public  occasion,  or  for  effect,  but  in  the.  style  of  sober 
and  friendly  correspondence,  as  the  result  of  his  own  thoughts.  '•  I  some 
times  retire,"  said  he,  at  the  close  of  the  letter,  "  and  laying  things  together, 
form  some  reflections  pleasing  to  myself.  The  produce  of  one  of  these  reve 
ries  you  have  read  above.  This  prognostication,  so  early  in  his  own  life,  so 
early  in  the  history  of  the  country,  of  independence,  of  vast  increase  of  num 
bers,  of  naval  force,  of  such  augmented  power  as  might  defy  all  Europe,  is 
remarkable.  It  is  more  remarkable,  that  its  author  should  live  to  see  fulfilled 
to  the  letter,  what  could  have  seemed  to  others,  at  the  time,  but  the  extrava 
gance  of  youthful  fancy.  His  earliest  political  feelings  were  thus  strongly 
American ;  and  from  this  ardent  attachment  to  his  native  soil  he  never  de 
parted. 

While  still  living  at  Quincy,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-four,  Mr.  Adams 
was  present,  in  this  town,  on  the  argument  before  the  Supreme  Court,  respect- 


78 

ing  Writs  of  Assistance,  and  heard  the  celebrated  and  patriotic  speech  of 
JAMES  OTIS.  Unquestionably  that  was  a  masterly  performance.  No  flighty 
declamation  about  liberty,  no  superficial  discussion  of  popular  topics,  it  was 
learned,  penetrating,  convincing,  constitutional  argument,  expressed  in  a  strain 
of  high  and  resolute  patriotism.  He  grasped  the  question,  then  pending  be 
tween  England  and  her  Colonies,  with  the  strength  of  a  lion;  and  if  he 
sometimes  sported,  it  was  only  because  the  lion  himself  is  sometimes  playful. 
Its  success  appears  to  have  been  as  great  as  its  merits,  and  its  impression  was 
widely  felt.  Mr.  Adams  himself  seems  never  to  have  lost  the  feeling  it  pro 
duced,  and  to  have  entertained  constantly  the  fullest  conviction  of  its  import 
ant  effects.  ':  I  do  say,"  he  observes,  "in  the  most  solemn  manner,  that  Mr. 
Qtis's  Oration  against  Writs  of  Assistance,  breathed  into  this  nation  the  breath 
of  life." 

In  1765  Mr.  Adams  laid  before  the  public,  what  I  suppose  to  be  his  first 
printed  performance,  except  essays  for  the  periodical  press,  a  Dissertation  oil 
the  Canon  and  Feudal  Law.  The  object  of  this  work  was  to  show  that  our 
New  England  ancestors,  in  consenting  to  exile  themselves  from  their  native 
land,  were  actuated,  mainly,  by  the  desire  of  delivering  themselves  from  the 
power  of  the  hierarchy,  and  from  the  monarchial  and  aristocratical  political 
systems  of  the  other  continent ;  and  to  make  this  truth  bear,  with  effect  on 
the  politics  of  the  times.  Its  tone  is  uncommonly  bold  and  animated,  for  that 
period.  He  calls  on  the  people,  not  only  to  defend,  but  to  study  and  under 
stand  their  rights  and  privileges ;  urges  earnestly  the  necessity  of  diffusing 
general  knowledge,  invokes  the  clergy  and  the  bar,  the  colleges  and  acade 
mies,  and  all  others  who  have  the  ability  and  the  means,  to  expose  the  insi 
dious  designs  of  arbitrary  power,  to  resist  its  approaches,  and  to  be  persuaded 
that  there  is  a  settled  design  on  foot  to  enslave  all  America.  "  Be  it  remem 
bered,"  says  the  author,  "  that  liberty  must,  at  all  hazards,  be  supported.  We 
have  a  right  to  it  derived  from  our  Maker.  But  if  we  had  not,  our  fathers 
have  earned  it,  and  bought  it  for  us,  at  the  expense  of  their  ease,  their  es 
tate,  their  pleasure  and  their  blood.  And  liberty  cannot  be  preserved  with 
out  a  general  knowledge  among  the  people,  who  have  a  right,  from  the  frame 
of  their  nature,  to  knowledge,  as  their  great  Creator,  who  does  nothing  in 
vain,  has  given  them  understandings,  and  a  desire  to  know ;  but  besides  this, 
they  have  a  right,  an  indisputable,  unalienable,  indefeasible  right  to  that  most 
dreaded  and  envied  kind  of  knowledge,  I  mean  of  the  character  and  conduct 
of  their  rulers.  Rulers  are  no  more  than  attorneys,  agents,  and  trustees  of 
the  people ;  and  if  the  cause,  the  interest  and  trust,  is  insidiously  betrayed,  or 
wantonly  trifled  away,  the  people  have  a  right  to  revoke  the  authority,  that 
they  themselves  have  deputed,  and  to  constitute  other  and  better  agents,  at 
torneys  and  trustees." 

The  citizens  of  this  town  conferred  on  Mr.  Adams  his  first  political  dis 
tinction,  and  clothed  him  with  his  first  political  trust,  by  electing  him  one  of 
their  representatives,  in  17 70.  Before  this  time  he  had  become  extensively 
known  throughout  the  province,  as  well  by  the  part  he  had  acted  in  relation 
to  public  affairs,  as  by  the  exercise  of  his  professional  ability.  He  was  among 
those  who  took  the  deepest  interest  in  the  controversy  with  England,  and 
whether  in  or  out  of  the  Legislature,  his  time  and  talents  were  alike  devoted 
to  the  cause.  In  the  years  1773  and  1774  he  was  chosen  a  counsellor,  by 
the  members  of  the  General  Court,  but  rejected  by  Governor  Hutchinson,  in 
the  former  of  those  years,  and  by  Governor  Gage  in  the  latter. 

The  time  was  now  at  hand,  however,  when  the  affairs  of  the  colonies  ur- 


79 

gently  demanded  united  councils.  An  open  rupture  with  tlie  parent  State 
appeared  inevitable,  and  it  was  but  the  dictate  of  prudence,  that  those  who 
were  united  by  a  common  interest  and  a  common  danger,  should  protect  that 
interest  and  guard  against  that  danger,  by  united  efforts.  A  general  Con 
gress  of  Delegates  from  all  the  colonies,  having  been  proposed  and  agreed  to, 
the  House  of  Representatives,  on  the  17th  of  June,  1774,  elected  JAMES 
BOWDOIN,  THOMAS  GUSHING,  SAMUEL  ADAMS,  JOHN  ADAMS,  and  ROBERT 
TREAT  PAINE,  delegates  from  Massachusetts.  This  appointment  was  made 
at  Salem,  where  the  General  Court  had  been  convened  by  Governor  Gage,  in 
the  last  hour  of  the  existence  of  a  House  of  Representatives  under  the  pro 
vincial  Charter.  While  engaged  in  this  important  business,  the  governor 
having  been  informed  of  what  was  passing,  sent  his  secretary  with  a  message 
dissolving  the  General  Court.  The  secretary  finding  the  door  locked,  directed 
the  messenger  to  go  in  and  inform  the  speaker  that  the  secretary  was  at  the 
door  with  a  message  from  the  governor.  The  messenger  returned,  and  in 
formed  the  secretary  that  the  orders  of  the  House  were  that  the  doors  should 
be  kept  fast;  whereupon  the  secretary  soon  after  read  a  proclamation,  dissol 
ving  the  General  Court  upon  the  stairs.  Thus  terminated,  forever,  the  actual 
exercise  of  the  political  power  of  England  in  or  over  Massachusetts.  The 
four  last  named  delegates  accepted  their  appointments,  and  took  their  scats 
in  Congress,  the  first  day  of  its  meeting,  September  5,  1774,  in  Phila 
delphia. 

The  proceedings  of  the  first  Congress  are  well  known,  and  have  been  uni 
versally  admired.  It  is  in  vain  that  we  would  look  for  superior  proofs  of 
wisdom,  talent,  and  patriotism.  Lord  Chatham  said,  that  for  himself,  he 
must  declare,  that  he  had  studied  and  admired  the  free  states  of  antiquity, 
the  master  states  of  the  world,  but  that  for  solidity  of  reasoning,  force  of 
sagacity,  and  wisdom  of  conclusion,  no  body  of  men  could  stand  in  preference 
to  this  Congress.  It  is  hardly  inferior  praise  to  say,  that  no  production  of  that 
great  man  himself  can  be  pronounced  superior  to  several  of  the  papers  pub 
lished  as  the  proceedings  of  this  most  able,  most  firm,  most  patriotic  assem 
bly.  There  is,  indeed,  nothing  superior  to  them  in  the  range  of  political  dis 
quisition.  They  not  only  embrace,  illustrate,  and  enforce  everything  which 
political  philosophy,  the  love  of  liberty,  and  the  spirit  of  free  inquiry  had  an 
tecedently  produced,  but  they  add  new  and  striking  views  of  their  own,  and 
apply  the  whole,  with  irresistible  force,  in  support  of  the  cause  which  had 
drawn  them  together. 

Mr.  Adams  was  a  constant  attendant  on  the  deliberations  of  this  body,  and 
bore  an  active  part  in  its  important  measures.  He  was  of  the  committee  to 
state  the  rights  of  the  colonies,  and  of  that  also  which  reported  the  address 
to  the  king. 

A»  it  was  in  the  continental  Congress,  fellow-citizens,  that  those  whose 
deaths  have  given  rise  to  this  occasion,  were  first  brought  together,  and  called 
on  to  unite  their  industry  and  their  ability,  in  the  service  of  the  country,  let 
us  now  turn  to  the  other  of  these  distinguished  men,  and  take  a  brief  notice 
of  his  life,  up  to  the  period  when  he  appeared  within  the  walls  of  Congress. 

THOMAS  JEFFERSON,  descended  from  ancestors  who  had  been  settled  in 
Virginia  for  some  generations,  was  born  near  the  spot  on  which  he  died,  in 
the  county  of  Albermale,  on  the  2d  of  April,  (Old  Style,)  1743.  His  youth 
ful  studies  were  pursued  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  father's  residence,  until 
he  was  removed  to  the  college  of  William  and  Mary,  the  highest  honors  of 
which,  he  in  due  time  received.  Having  left  the  college  with  reputation,  he 


80 

applied  himself  to  the  study  of  law,  under  the  tuition  of  George  Wythe,  one 
of  the  highest  judicial  names  of  which  that  State  can  boast.  At  an  early 
age  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Legislature,  in  which  he  had  no  sooner 
appeared  than  he  distinguished  himself,  by  knowledge  capacity,  and  promp 
titude. 

Mr.  Jefferson  appears  to  have  been  imbued  with  an  early  love  of  letters 
and  science,  and  to  have  cherished  a  strong  disposition  to  pursue  these  ob 
jects.  To  the  physical  sciences,  especially,  and  to  ancient  classic  literature,  he 
is  understood  to  have  had  a  warm  attachment,  and  never  entirely  to  have  lost 
sight  of  them,  in  the  midst  of  the  busiest  occupations.  But  the  times  were 
times  for  action,  rather  than  for  contemplation.  The  country  was  to  be  de 
fended,  and  to  be  saved  before  it  could  be  enjoyed.  Philosophic  leisure  and 
literary  pursuits,  and  even  the  objects  of  professional  attention,  were  all  nec 
essarily  postponed  to  the  urgent  calls  of  the  public  service.  The  exigency  of 
the  country  made  the  same  demand  on  Mr.  Jefferson  that  it  made  on  others 
who  had  the  ability  and  the  disposition  to  serve  it ;  and  he  obeyed  the  call ; 
thinking  and  feeling,  in  this  respect,  with  the  great  Roman  orator ;  Quis  enim 
est  tarn  cupidus  in  perspidenda  cognoscendaque  rerum  natura,  ut,  si  ei  trac- 
tanta  contemplantique  res  cognitione  dignissimas  subito  sit  allatum  pericu- 
lum  discrimenque  patrioe,  cui  subvenire  opitularique  possit,  non  ilia  omnia 
relinquat  atque  abjiciat,  etiam  si  dinumerare  se  Stellas,  aut  metira  mundi 
magnitudinem  posse  arbitretur  ? 

Entering,  with  all  his  heart,  into  the  cause  of  liberty,  his  ability,  patriotism, 
and  power  with  the  pen,  naturally  drew  upon  him  a  large  participation  in  the 
most  important  concerns.  Wherever  he  was,  there  was  found  a  soul  devoted 
to  the  cause,  power  to  defend  and  maintain  it,  and  willingness  to  incur  all  its 
hazards.  In  1774  he  published  a  Summary  View  of  the  Rights  of  British 
America,  a  valuable  production  among  those  intended  to  show  the  dangers 
which  threatened  the  liberties  of  the  country,  and  to  encourage  the  people  in 
their  defence.  In  June  1775  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Continental 
Congress,  as  successor  to  PEYTON  RANDOLPH,  who  had  retired  on  account  of 
ill  health,  and  took  his  seat  in  that  body  on  the  21st  of  the  same  month. 

And  now,  fellow  citizens,  without  pursuing  the  biography  of  these  illustri 
ous  men  further,  for  the  present,  let  us  turn  our  attention  to  the  most  promi 
nent  act  of  their  lives,  their  participation  in  the  DECLARATION  OF  IN 
DEPENDENCE. 

Preparatory  to  the  introduction  of  that  important  measure,  a  committee,  at 
the  head  of  which  was  Mr.  Adams,  had  reported  a  resolution,  which  Con 
gress  adopted  the  10th  of  May,  recommending  in  substance,  to  all  the  colo- 
nie-  which  had  not  already  established  governments  suited  to  the  exigencies 
of  their  affairs,  to  adopt  such  government,  as  would,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
representatives  of  the  people,  best  conduce  to  the  happiness  and  safety  of 
their  constituents  in  particular,  and  America  in  general. 

This  significant  vote  was  soon  followed  by  the  direct  proposition,  which 
RICHARD  HENRY  LEE  had  the  honor  to  submit  to  Congress,  by  resolution, 
on  the  7th  day  of  June.  The  published  journal  does  not  expressly  state  it, 
but  there  is  no  doubt,  I  suppose,  that  this  resolution  was  in  the  same  words, 
when  originally  submitted  by  Mr.  Lee,  as  when  finally  passed.  Having  been 
discussed,  on  Saturday  the  8th,  and  Monday  the  10th  of  June,  this  resolution 
was  on  the  last  mentioned  day  postponed,  for  further  consideration,  to  the  first 
day  of  July ;  and,  at  the  same  time  it  was  voted,  that  a  committee  be  ap 
pointed  to  prepare  a  DECLARATION,  to  the  effect  of  the  resolution.  This  com- 


81 

mittee  was  elected  by  ballot,  on  the  following  day,  and  consisted  of  THOMAS 
JEFFERSON,  JOHN  ADAMS,  BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN,  ROGER  SHERMAN,  and  RO 
BERT  R.  LIVINGSTON. 

It  is  usual,  when  committees  are  elected  by  ballot,  that  their  names  are 
arranged,  in  order,  according  to  the  number  of  votes  which  each  has  received. 
Mr.  Jefferson,  therefore,  had  received  the  highest,  and  Mr.  Adams  the  next 
highest  number  of  votes.  The  difference  is  said  to  have  been  but  of  a  single 
vote  Mr.  Jefferson  and  Mr.  Adams,  standing  thus  at  the  head  of  the  com 
mittee,  were  requested,  by  the  other  members,  to  act  as  a  sub-committee,  to 
Zare  the  draught ;  and  Mr.  Jefferson  drew  up  the  paper.  The  original 
ght,  as  brought  by  him  from  his  study,  and  submitted  to  the  other  mem 
bers  of  the  committee,  with  interlineations  in  the  hand-writing  of  Dr.  Frank 
lin,  and  others  in  that  of  Mr.  Adams,  was  in  Mr.  Jefferson's  possession  at  the 
time  of  his  death.  The  merit  of  this  paper  is  Mr.  Jefferson's.  Some  changes 
were  made  in  it,  on  the  suggestion  of  other  members  of  the  committee,  and 
others  by  Congress  while  it  was  under  discussion.  But  none  of  them  altered 
the  tone,  the  frame,  the  arrangement,  or  the  general  character  of  the  instru 
ment.  As  a  composition,  the  declaration  is  Mr.  Jefferson's.  It  is  the  pro 
duction  of  his  mind,  and  the  high  honor  of  it  belongs  to  him,  clearly  and 
absolutely. 

It  has  sometimes  been  said,  as  if  it  were  a  derogation  from  the  merits  of 
this  paper,  that  it  contains  nothing  new ;  that  it  only  states  grounds  of  pro 
ceeding,  and  presses  topics  of  argument,  which  had  often  been  stated  and  pres 
sed  before.  But  it  was  not  the  object  of  the  Declaration  to  produce  any 
thing  new.  It  was  not  to  invent  reasons  for  independence,  but  to  state  those 
which  governed  the  Congress.  For  great  and  sufficient  causes,  it  was  pro 
posed  to  declare  independence ;  and  the  proper  business  of  the  paper  to  be 
drawn  was  to  set  forth  those  causes,  and  justify  the  authors  of  the  measure, 
in  any  event  of  fortune,  to  the  country  and  to  posterity.  The  cause  of  Ameri 
can  independence,  moreover,  was  now  to  be  presented  to  the  world  in  such  man 
ner,  if  it  might  so  be,  as  to  engage  its  sympathy,  to  command  its  respect,  to  at 
tract  its  admiration ;  and  in  an  assembly  of  most  able  and  distinguished  men, 
THOMAS  JEFFERSON  had  the  high  honor  of  being  the  selected  advocate  of 
this  cause.  To  say  that  he  performed  his  great  work  well,  would  be  doing 
him  injustice.  To  say  that  he  did  excellently  well,  admirably  well,  would  be 
inadequate  and  halting  praise.  Let  us  rather  say,  that  he  so  discharged  the 
duty  assigned  him,  that  all  Americans  may  well  rejoice  that  the  work  of 
drawing  the  title  deed  of  their  liberties  devolved  on  his  hands. 

With  all  its  merits,  there  are  those  who  have  thought  that  there  was  one 
thing  in  the  declaration  to  be  regretted ;  and  that  is,  the  asperity  and  appa 
rent  anger  with  which  it  speaks  of  the  person  of  the  king;  the  industrious 
ability  with  which  it  accumulates  and  charges  upon  him,  all  the  injuries  which 
the  colonies  had  suffered  from  the  mother  country.  Possibly  some  de^ee  of 
injustice,  now  or  hereaftei,  at  home  or  abroad,  may  be  done  to  the  character 
of  Mr.  Jefferson,  if  this  part  of  the  declaration  be  not  placed  in  its  proper 
light.  Anger  or  resentment,  certainly,  much  less  personal  reproach  and  in 
vective,  could  not  properly  find  place,  in  a  composition  of  such  high  dignity, 
and  of  such  lofty  and  permanent  character. 

A  single  reflection  on  the  original  ground  of  dispute  between  England  and 
the  Colonies  is  sufficient  to  remove  any  unfavorable  impression  in  this  respect 

The  inhabitants  of  all  the  Colonies,  while  Colonies,  admitted  themselves 
bound  by  their  allegiance  to  the  king  ;  but  they  disclaimed  altogether  the 


S2 

authority  of  Parliament;  holding  themselves,  in  this  respect,  to  resemble  the 
condition  of  Scotland  and  Ireland  before  the  respective  unions  of  those  king 
doms  with  England,  when  they  acknowledged  allegiance  to  the  same  king,  but 
had  each  its  separate  legislature.  The  tie,  therefore,  which  our  Revolution 
was  to  to  break  did  not  subsist  between  us  and  the  British  Parliament,  or  be 
tween  us  and  the  British  Government  in  the  aggregate,  but  directly  between 
us  and  the  king  himself. 

The  Colonies  had  never  admitted  themselves  subject  to  Parliament.  That 
was  precisely  the  point  of  the  original  controversy.  They  had  uniformly  de 
nied  that  Parliament  had  authority  to  make  laws  for  them.  There  was, 
therefore,  no  subjection  to  Parliament  to  be  thrown  off.  But  allegiance  to 
the  king  did  exist,  and  had  been  uniformly  acknowledged;  and  down  to  1775 
the  most  solemn  assurances  had  been  given  that  it  was  not  intended  to  break 
that  allegiance  or  throw  it  off.  Therefore,  as  the  direct  object  and  only  effect 
of  the  Declaration,  according  to  the  principles  on  which  the  controversy  had 
been  maintained  on  our  part>  were  to  sever  the  tie  of  allegiance  which  bound 
us  to  the  king,  it  was  properly  and  necessarily  founded  on  acts  of  the  crown 
itself,  as  its  justifying  causes.  Parliament  is  not  so  much  as  mentitoned  in  the 
whole  instrument.  When  odious  and  oppressive  acts  are  referred  to,  it  is  done 
by  charging  the  king  with  confederating  wTith  others  "  in  pretended  acts  of 
legislation" ;  the  object  being  constantly  to  hold  the  king  himself  directly 
responsible  for  those  measures  which  were  the  grounds  of  separation.  Even 
the  precedent  of  the  English  Revolution  was  not  overlooked,  and  in  this  case, 
as  well  as  in  that,  occasion  was  found  to  say  that  the  king  had  abdicated  the 
government.  Consistency  with  the  principles  upon  which  resistance  began, 
and  with  all  the  previous  state  papers  issued  by  Congress,  required  that  the 
Declaration  should  be  bottomed  on  the  misgovernment  of  the  king;  and 
therefore  it  was  properly  framed  with  that  aim  and  to  that  end.  The  king 
was  known,  indeed,  to  have  acted,  as  in  other  cases,  by  his  ministers,  and  with 
his  Parliament;  but  as  our  ancestors  had  never  admitted  themselves  subject 
either  to  ministers  or  to  Parliament,  tiiere  were  no  reasons  to  be  given  for  now 
refusing  obedience  to  their  authority.  This  clear  and  obvious  necessity  of 
founding  the  Declaration  on  the  misconduct  of  the  king  himself,  gives  to  that 
instrument  its  personal  application,  and  its  character  of  direct  and  pointed 
accusation. 

The  Declaration  having  been  reported  to  Congress  by  the  committee,  the 
resolution  itself  was  taken  up  and  debated  on  the  first  day  of  July,  and  again 
on  the  second,  on  which  last  day  it  was  agreed  to  and  adopted,  in  these 
words :  — 

"Resolved,  That  the  United  Colonies  are,  and  of  right  ought  to  be, 
free  and  independent  States ;  that  they  are  absolved  from  all  allegiance  to  the 
British  crown,  and  that  all  political  connection  between  them  and  the  state 
of  Great  Britain  is,  and  ought  to  be,  totally  dissolved." 

Having  thus  passed  the  main  resolution,  Congress  proceeded  to  consider  the 
reported  draught  of  the  Declaration.  It  was  discusssed  on  the  second,  and 
third,  and  FOURTH  days  of  the  month,  in  committee  of  the  whole ;  and  on  the 
last  of  those  days,  being  reported  from  that  committee,  it  received  the  final 
approbation  and  sanction  of  Congress.  It  was  ordered,  at  the  same  time,  that 
copies  be  sent  to  the  several  States,  and  that  it  be  proclaimed  at  the  head  of 
the  army.  The  Declaration  thus  published  did  not  bear  the  names  of  the 
members,  for  as  yet  it  had  not  been  signed  by  them.  It  was  authenticated, 
like  other  papers  of  the  Congress,  by  the  signatures  of  the  President  and  Sec- 


83 

retary.  On  tlie  19th  of  July,  as  appears  by  the  secret  journal,  Congress 
"  Resolved,  That  the  Declaration,  passed  on  the  fourth,  be  fairly  engrossed  on 
parchment,  with  the  title  and  style  of-  *  THE  UNANIMOUS  DECLARATION  OF 
THE  THIRTEEN  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA'  ;  and  that  the  same,  when  en 
grossed,  be  signed  by  every  member  of  Congress."  And  on  the  SECOND  DAY 
OF  AUGUST  following,  "  the  Declaration,  being  engrossed  and  compared  at  the 
table,  was  signed  by  the  members."  So  that  it  happens,  fellow-citizens,  that 
we  pay  these  honors  to  their  memory  on  the  anniversary  of  that  day  (2d  of 
August)  on  which  these  great  men  actually  signed  their  names  to  the  De 
claration.  The  Declaration  was  thus  made,  that  is,  it  passed,  and  was  adopted 
as  an  act  of  Congress,  on  the  fourth  of  July ;  it  was  then  signed,  and  certified 
by  the  President  and  Secretary,  like  other  acts.  The  FOURTH  OF  JULY, 
therefore,  is  the  ANNIVERSARY  OF  THE  DECLARATION.  But  the  signatures 
•of  the  members  present  were  made  to  it,  being  then  engrossed  on  parchment, 
on  the  second  day  of  August.  Absent  members  afterwards  signed,  as  they 
came  in ;  and  indeed  it  bears  the  names  of  some  who  were  not  chosen  mem 
bers  of  Congress  until  after  the  fourth  of  July.  The  interest  belonging  to  the 
subject,  will  be  sufficient,  I  hope,  to  justify  these  details. 

The  Congress  of  the  Revolution,  fellow-citizens,, sat  with  closed  doors,  and 
no  report  of  its  debates  was  ever  made.  The  discussion,  therefore,  which 
accompanied  this  great  measure,  has  never  been  preserved,  except  in  memory 
and  by  tradition.  But  it  is,  I  believe,  doing  no  injustice  to  others  to  say,  that 
the  general  opinion  was,  and  uniformly  has  been,  that  in  debate^  on  the  side 
of  independence,  "  JOHN  ADAMS  had  no  equal.  The  great  author  of  the 
Declaration  himself  has  expressed  that  opinion  uniformly  and  strongly. 
"  JOHN  ADAMS,"  said  he,  in  the  hearing  of  him  who  has  now  the  honor  to 
address  you,  "  JOHN  ADAMS  was  our  colossus  on  the  floor.  JSTot  graceful,  not 
elegant,  not  always  fluent,  in  his  public  addresses,  he  yet  came  out  with  a 
power,  both  of  thought  and  of  expresssion,  which  moved  us  from  our  seats," 

For  the  part  which  he  was  here  to  perform,  Mr.  Adams  doubtless  was  emi 
nently  fitted.  He  possessed  a  bold  spirit  which  disregarded  danger,  and  a 
*  sanguine  reliance  on  the  goodness  of  the  cause,  and  the  virtues  of  the  people, 
which  led  him  to  overlook  all  obstacles.  His  character,  too,  had  been  formed 
in  troubled  times.  He  had  been  rocked  in  the  early  storms  of  the  controversy, 
and  had  acquired  a  decision  and  a  hardihood  proportioned  to  the  severity  of 
the  discipline  wrhich  he  had  undergone. 

He  not  only  loved  the  American  cause  devoutly,  but  had  studied  and  un 
derstood  it.  It  was  all  familiar  to  him.  He  had  tried  his  powers  on  the 
questions  which  it  involved,  often  and  in  various  ways ;  and  brought  to  their 
consideration  Avhatever  of  argument  or  illustration  the  history  of  his  own 
country,  the  history  of  England,  or  the  stores  of  ancient  or  legal  learning 
could  furnish.  Every  grievance  enumerated  in  the  long  catalogue  of  the  De 
claration  had  been  the  subject  of  his  discussion,  and  the  object  of  his  remon 
strance  and  reprobation.  From  1760,  the  Colonies,  the  rights  of  the  Colonies, 
the  liberties  of  the  Colonies,  and  the  wrongs  inflicted  on  the  Colonies,  had 
engaged  his  attention ;  and  it  has  surprised  those  who  have  the  opportunity 
of  witnessing  it,  with  what  full  remembrance,  and  with  what  prompt  recollec 
tion  he  could  refer,  in  his  extreme  old  age  to  every  act  of  Parliament  affecting 
tho  Colonies,  distinguishing  and  stating  their  respective  titles,  sections  and 
provisions;  and  to  all  the  Colonial  memorials,  remonstrances,  and  petitions, 
with  whatever  else  belonged  to  the  intimate  and  exact  history  of  the  times 
from  that  year  to  1775.  It  was,  in  his  own  judgment,  between  these  years 


84 

that  the  American  people  came  to  a  full  understanding  and  thorough  knowl 
edge  of  their  rights,  and  a  fixed  resolution  of  maintaining  them ;  and  bearing 
himself  an  active  part  in  all  important  transactions,  the  controversy  with  Eng 
land  being  then  in  effect  the  business  of  his  life,  facts,  dates,  and  particulars 
made  an  impression  which  was  never  effaced.  He  was  prepared,  therefore, 
by  education  and  discipline,  as  well  as  by  natural  talent  and  natural  tempera 
ment,  for  the  pail  which  he  was  now  to  act. 

The  eloquence  of  Mr.  Adams  resembled  his  general  character,  and  formed, 
indeed,  a  part  of  it.  It  was  bold,  manly,  and  energetic ;  and  such  the  crisis 
required.  •When  public  bodies  are  to  be  addressed  on  momentous  occasions, 
when  great  interests  are  at  stake,  and  strong  passions  excited,  nothing  is  valu 
able  in  speech  farther  than  as  it  is  connected  with  high  intellectual  and  moral 
endowments.  Clearness,  force,  and  earnestness  are  the  qualities  which  pro 
duce  conviction.//  True  eloquence,  does  not  consist  in  speech.  It  cannot  be^ 
brought  from  far.  'Lafeor  and  learning  may  toil  for  it>  but  they  will  toil  in 
vain.  Words  and  phrases  may  be  marshalled  in  every  way,  but  they  cannot 
compass  it.  It  must  exist  in  the  man,  in  the  subject,  and  in  the  occasion. 
Affected  passion,  intense  expression,  the  pomp  of  declamation,  all  may  aspire  to 
it ;  they  cannot  reach  it.  It  comes,  if  it  come  at  all,  like ,  the  outbreaking  of 
a  fountain  from  the  earth,  or  the  bursting  forth  of  volcanic  fires,  with  sponta 
neous,  original,  native  force.  The  graces  taught  in  the  schools,  the  costly 
ornaments  and  studied  contrivances  of  speech,  shock  and  disgust  men,  when 
their  own  livts,  and  the  fate  of  their  wives,  their  children,  and  their  country, 
hang  on  the  decision  of  the  hour.  Then  words  have  lost  their  power,  rheto 
ric  is  vain,  and  all  elaborate  oratory  contemptible.  Even  genius  itself  then 
feels  rebuked  and  subdued,  as  in  the  presence  of  higher  qualities.  Then 
patriotism  is  eloquent ;  then  self  devotion  is  eloquent.  The  clear  conception, 
outrunning  the  deductions  of  logic,  the  high  purpose,  the  firm  resolve,  the 
dauntless  spirit,  speaking  on  the  tongue,  beaming  from  the  eye,  informing 
every  feature,  and  urging  the  whole  man  onward,  right  onward  to  his  object — 
this,  this  is  eloquence ;  or  rather  it  is  something  greater  and  higher  than  all 
eloquence,  it  is  action,  noble,  sublime,  godlike  action.  f 

In  July,  1776,  the  controversy  had  passed  the  stage  of  argument.  An  ap 
peal  had  been  made  to  force,  and  opposing  armies  were  in  the  field.  Con 
gress,  then,  was  to  decide  whether  the  tie  which  had  so  long  bound  us  to  the 
parent  state  was  to  be  severed  at  once,  and  severed  forever.  All  the  Colo- 
onies  had  signified  their  resolution  to  abide  by  this  decision,  and  the  people 
looked  for  it  with  the  most  intense  anxiety.  And  surely,  fellow-citizens,  never, 
never  were  men  called  to  a  more  important  political  deliberation.  If  we  con 
template  it  from  the  point  where  they  then  stood,  no  question  could  be  more 
full  of  interest;  if  we  look  at  it  now,  and  judge  of  its  importance  by  its 
effects,  it  appears  of  still  greater  magnitude. 

Let  us,  then,  bring  before  us  the  assembly,  which  was  about  to  decide  a 
question  thus  big  with  the  fate  of  empire.  Let  us  open  their  doors  and  look 
in  upon  their  deliberations.  Let  us  survey  the  anxious  and  care-worn  coun 
tenances,  let  us  hear  the  firm-toned  voices,  of  this  band  of  patriots. 

HANCOCK  presides  over  the  solemn  sitting ;  and  one  of  those  not  yet  pre 
pared  to  pronounce  for  absolute  independence  is  on  the  floor,  and  is  urging  his 
reasons  for  dissenting  from  the  declaration. 

"  Let  us  pause !  This  step,  once  taken,  can  never  be  retraced.  This  reso 
lution,  once  passed,  will  cut  off  all  hope  of  a  reconciliation.  If  success  attend 
the  arms  of  England,  we  shall  then  be  no  longer  colonies,  with  charters  and 


85 

privileges;  these  will  all  be  forfeited  by  this  act;  and  we  shall  be  in  the 
condition  of  other  conquered  people,  at  the  mere  y  of  the  conquerors.  For 
ourselves,  we  may  be  ready  to  run  the  hazard;  but  are  we  ready  to  carry  the 
country  to  that  length?  Is  success -so  puobable  as  to  justify  it?  Where 
is  the  military,  where  the  naval  power,  by  which  we  are  to  resist  the 
whole  strength  of  the  arm  of  England,  for  she  will  exert  that  strength  to  tho 
utmost  ?  Can  we  rely  on  the  constancy  and  perseverance  of  the  people  ?  or 
will  they  not  act  as  the  people  of  other  countries  have  acted,  and  wearied  with 
a  long  war,  submit,  in  the  end,  to  a  worse  oppression  ?  While  we  stand  on 
our  own  ground,  and  insist  on  redress  of  grievances,  we  know  we  are  right,  and 
are  not  answerable  for  consequences.  Nothing,  then,  can  be  imputed  to  us. 
But  if  we  now  change  our  object,  carry  our  pretensions  farther,  and  set  up  for 
absolute  independence,  we  shall  lose  the  sympathy  of  mankind.  We  shall  no 
longer  be  defending  what  we  possess,  but  struggling  for  something  which  we 
never  did  possess,  and  which  we  have  solemnly  and  uniformly  disclaimed  all 
intention  of  pursuing,  from  the  very  outset  of  the  troubles.  Abandoning 
thus  our  old  ground,  of  resistance  only  to  arbitrary  acts  of  oppression,  the 
nations  will  believe  the  whole  to  have  been  mere  pretence,  and  they  will  look 
on  us,  not  as  injured,  but  as  ambitious  subjects.  I  shudder  before  this  respon 
sibility.  It  will  be  on  us,  if,  relinquishing  the  ground  on  which  we  have  stood 
so  safely,  we  now  proclaim  independence,  and  carry  on  the  war  for  that  objeet, 
while  these  cities  burn,  these  pleasant  fields  whiten  and  bleach  with  the  bones 
of  their  owners,  and  these  streams  run  blood.  It  will  be  upon  us,  it  will  be 
upon  us,  if,  failing  to  maintain  this  unseasonable  and  ill-judged  declaration,  a 
sterner  despotism,  maintained  by  military  power,  shall  be  established  over  our 
posterity,  when  we  ourselves,  given  up  by  an  exhausted,  a  harrassed,  a  misled 
people,  shall  have  expiated  our  rashness  and  atoned  for  our  presumption  on 
the  scaffold." 

It-  was  for  Mr.  Adams  to  reply  to  arguments  like  these.  We  know  his 
opinions,  and  we  know  his  character.  He  would  commence  with  his  accus 
tomed  directness  and  earnestness. 

"  Sink  or  swim,  live  or  die,  survive  or  perish,  I  give  my  hand  and  .my  heart 
to  this  vote.  It  is  true,  indeed  that  in  the  beginning  that  we  aimed  not  at 
independence.  But  there's  a  Divinity  which  shapes  our  ends.  The  injustice 
of  England,  has  driven  us  to  arms;  and,  blinded  to  her  own  interest  for  our 
good,  she  has  obstinately  persisted,  till  independence  is  now  within  our  grasp. 
We  have  but  to  reach  forth  to  it,  and  it  is  ours.  Why,  then  should  we  defer 
the  Declaration  I  Is  any  man  so  weak  as  now  to  hope  for  a  reconciliation 
with  England,  which  shall  leave  either  safety  to  the  country  and  ite  liberties, 
or  safety  to  his  own  life  and  honor  ?  Are  not  you,  sir,  who  sit  in  that  chair, 
is  not  he,  our  venerable  colleague  near  you,  are  you  not  both  already  the  pro 
scribed  and  predestined  objects  of  punishment  and  vengeance  ?  Cut  off  from 
all  hope  of  royal  clemency,  what  are  you,  what  can  you  be,  while  the  power 
of  England  remains,  but  outlaws  ?  If  we  postpone  independence,  do  we  mean 
to  carry  on,  or  give  up,  the  war  ?  Do  we  mean  to  submit  to  the  measures  of 
Parliament,  Boston  Port  Bill  and  all  ?  Do  we  mean  to  submit,  and  consent 
that  we  ourselves  shall  be  ground  to  powder,  and  our  country  and  its  rights 
trodden  down  in  the  dust  ?  I  know  we  do  not  mean  to  submit.  We  never 
shall  submit.  Do  we  intend  to  violate  that  most  solemn  obligation  ever  en 
tered  into  by  men,  that  plighting,  before  God,  of  our  sacred  honor  to  Wash 
ington,  when  putting  him  forth  to  incur  the  dangers  of  War,  as  well  as  the 
political  hazards  of  the  times,  we  promised  to  adhere  to  him,  in  every  ex- 


86 

tremity,  with  our  fortunes  and  our  lives !  I  know  there  is  not  a  man  here, 
who  would  not  rather  see  a  general  conflagration  sweep  over  the  land,  or  an 
earthquake  sink  it,  than  one  jot  or  tittle  of  that  plighted  faith  fall  to  the 
ground.  For  myself,  having,  twelve  months  ago,  in  this  place,  moved  you, 
that  George  Washington  be  appointed  commander  of  the  forces  raised,  or  to 
be  raised,  for  defence  of  American  liberty,  may  my  right  hand  forget  her 
cunning,  and  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth,  if  I  hesitate  or 
waver  in  the  support  1  give  him. 

"  The  war,  then,  must  go  on.  We  must  fight  it  through.  And  if  the 
war  must  go  on,  why  put  off  longer  the  Declaration  of  Independence  ?  That 
measure  will  strengthen  us.  It  will  give  us  character  abroad.  The  nations 
will  treat  with  us,  which  they  can  never  do  while  we  acknowledge  ourselves 
subjects,  in  arms  against  our  sovereign.  Nay,  I  maintain  that  England  herself 
will  sooner  treat  for  peace  with  us  on  the  footing  of  independence,  than  consent, 
by  repealing  her  acts,  to  acknowledge  that  her  whole  conduct  towards  us  has 
been  a  course  of  injustice  and  oppression.  Her  pride  will  be  less  wounded 
by  submitting  to  that  course  of  things  which  now  predestinates  our  indepen 
dence,  than  by  yielding  the  points  in  controversy  to  her  rebellious  subjects. 
The  former  she  would  regard  as  the  result  of  fortune ;  the  latter  she  would 
feel  as  her  own  deep  disgrace.  Why,  then,  why  then,  Sir,  do  we  not  as  soon 
as  possible  change  this  from  a  civil  to  a  national  war  ?  And  since  we  must 
fight  it  through,  why  not  put  ourselves  in  a  state  to  enjoy  all  the  benefits  of 
victory,  if  we  gain  the  victory  ? 

"  If  we  fail,  it  can  be  no  worse  for  us.  But  we  shall  not  fail.  The  cause 
will  raise  up  armies ;  the  cause  will  create  navies.  The  people,  the  people,  if 
we  are  true  to  them,  will  carry  us,  and  will  carry  themselves,  gloriously  through 
this  struggle.  I  care  not  how  fickle  other  people  have  been  found.  I  know 
the  people  of  these  Colonies,  and  I  know  that  resistance  to  British  aggression 
is  deep  and  settled  in  their  hearts  and  cannot  be  eradicated.  Every  Colony, 
indeed,  has  expressed  its  willingness  to  follow,  if  we  but  take  the  lead.  Sir, 
the  Declaration  will  inspire  the  people  with  increased  courage.  Instead  of  a 
long  and  bloody  war  for  the  restoration  of  privileges,  for  redress  of  grievan 
ces,  for  chartered  immunities,  held  under  a  British  king,  set  before  them  the 
glorious  object  of  entire  independence,  and  it  will  breath  into  them  anew  the 
breath  of  life.  Read  this  Declaration  at  the  head  of  the  army ;  every  sword 
will  be  drawn  from  its  scabbard,  and  the  solemn  vow  uttered,  to  maintain  it, 
or  to  perish  on  the  bed  of  honor.  Publish  it  from  the  pulpit ;  religion  will 
approve  it,  and  the  love  of  religious  liberty  will  cling  round  it,  resolved  to 
stand  with  it  or  fall  with  it.  Send  it  to  the  public  halls ;  proclaim  it  there ; 
let  them  hear  it  who  heard  the  first  roar  of  the  enemy's  cannon;  let  them  see- 
it  who  saw  their  brothers  and  their  sons  fall  on  the  field  of  Bunker  Hill,  and 
in  the  street  of  Lexington  and  Concord,  and  the  very  walls  will  cry  out  in  its 
support. 

"  Sir,  I  know  the  uncertainty  of  human  affairs,  but  I  see,  I  see  clearly, 
through  this  day's  business.  You  and  I,  indeed,  may  rue  it.  We  may  not 
live  to  the  time  when  this  Declaration  shall  be  made  good.  We  may  die ;  die 
colonists;  die  slaves;  die,  it  may  be,  ignominiously  and  on  the  scaffold.  Be 
it  so.  Be  it  so.  If  it  be  the  pleasure  of  Heaven  that  my  country  shall  re 
quire  the  poor  offering  of  my  life,  the  victim  shall  be  ready,  at  the  appointed 
hour  of  sacrifice,  come  when  that  hour  may.  But  while  I  do  live,  let  me 
have  a  country,  or  at  least  the  hope  of  a  country,  and  that  a  free  country. 

"  But  whatever  may  be  our  fate,  be  assured,  be  assured  that  this  Declara- 


87 

tion  will  stand.  It  may  cost  treasure,  and  it  may  cost  blood;  but  it  will  stand, 
and  it  will  richly  compensate  for  both.  Through  the  thick  gloom  of  the  pres 
ent,  I  see  the  brightness  of  the  future,  as  the  sun  in  heaven.  We  shall  make 
this  a  glorious,  an  immortal  day.  When  we  are  in  our  graves,  our  children 
will  honor  it.  They  will  celebrate  it  with  thanksgiving,  with  festivity,  with 
bonfires,  and  illuminations.  On  its  annual  return  they  will  shed  tears,  copious, 
gushing  tears,  not  of  subjection  and  slavery,  not  of  agony  and  distress,  but  of 
exultation,  of  gratitude,  and  of  joy.  Sir,  before  God,  I  believe  the  hour  is  . 
come.  My  judgment  approves  this  measure,  and  my  whole  heart  is  in  it 
All  that  I  have,  and  all  that  I  am,  and  all  that  I  hope,  in  this  life,  I  am  now 
ready  here  to  stake  upon  it ;  and  I  leave  off  as  I  begun,  that  live  or  die,  sur 
vive  or  perish,  I  am  for  the  Declaration.  It  is  my  living  sentiment,  and  by  the 
blessing  of  God  it  shall  be  my  dying  sentiment,  Independence,  now,  and  IN 
DEPENDENCE  FOR  EVER." 

And  so  that  day  shall  be  honored,  illustrious  prophet  and  patriot !  so  that 
day  shall  be  honored,  and  as  often  as  it  returns,  thy  renown  shall  come  along 
with  it,  and  the  glory  of  thy  life,  like  the  day  of  thy  death,  shall  not  fail  from 
the  remembrance  of  men. 

It  would  be  unjust,  fellow-citizens,  on  this  occasion,  while  we  express  our 
veneration  for  him  who  is  the  immediate  subject  of  these  remarks,  were  we 
to  omit  a  most  respectful,  affectionate,  and  grateful  mention  of  those  other 
great  men,  his  colleagues,  who  stood  with  him,  and  with  the  same  spirit,  the 
same  devotion,  took  part  in  the  interesting  transaction.  HANCOCK,  the  pro 
scribed  HANCOCK,  exiled  from  his  home  by  a  military  governor,  cut  off  by 
proclamation  from  the  mercy  of  the  crown, — Heaven  reserved  for  him  the 
honor  of  putting  this  great  question  to  the  vote,  and  of  writing  his  own  name 
first,  and  most  conspicuously,  on  that  parchment  which  spoke  defiance  to  the 
power  of  the  crown  of  England.  There,  too,  is  the  name  of  that  other  pro 
scribed  patriot,  SAMUEL  ADAMS,  a  man  who  hungered  and  thirsted,  for  the 
independence  of  his  country ;  who  thought  the  Declaration  halted  and  lin^ 
gered,  being  himself  not  only  ready,  but  eager  for  it,  long  before  it  was  pro 
posed  ;  a  man  of  the  deepest  sagacity,  the  clearest  foresight,  and  the  profound- 
est  judgment  in  men.  And  there  is  GERRY,  himself  among  the  earliest  and 
the  foremost  of  the  patriots,  found  when  the  battle  of  Lexington  summoned 
them  to  common  counsels,  by  the  side  of  WARREN  5  a  man  who  lived  to  serve 
his  country  at  home  and  abroad,  and  to  die  in  the  second  place  in  the  govern 
ment.  There,  too,  is  the  inflexible,  the  upright,  the  Spartan  character,  ROBERT 
TREAT  PAINE.  He  also  lived  to  serve  his  country  through  the  struggle,  and 
then  withdrew  from  her  councils,  only  that  he  might  give  his  labors  and  his  life 
to  his  native  State,  in  another  relation.  These  names,  fellow-citizens,  are  the 
treasures  of  the  Commonwealth ',  and  they  are  treasures  which  grow  brighter 
by  time. 

It  is  now  necessary  to  resume  the  narrative,  and  to  finish  with  great  brevity 
the  notice  of  the  lives  of  those  whose  virtues  and  services  we  have  met  to 
commemorate. 

Mr.  Adams  remained  in  Congress  from  its  first  meeting  till  November,  1777,  < 
when  he  was  appointed  Minister  to  France.  He  proceeded  on  that  service  in 
the  February  following,  embarking  in  the  frigate  Boston,  from  the  shore  of 
his  native  town,  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Wollaston.  The  year  following,  he  was 
appointed  commissioner  to  treat  of  peace  with  England.  Returning  to  the 
United  States,  he  was  a  delegate  from  Braintree  in  the  Convention  for  fra 
ming  tbe  Constitution  of  this  Commonwealth,  in  1780.  At  the  latter  end 


88 

of  the  same  year,  he  again  went  abroad  in  the  diplomatic  service  of  the  coun 
try,  and  was  employed  at  various  courts,  and  occupied  with  various  negocia- 
tions,  until  1788.  The  particulars  of  these  interesting  and  important  services 
this  occasion  does  not  allow  time  to  relate.  In  1782  he  concluded  our  first 
treaty  with  Holland.  His  negociations  with  that  republic,  his  efforts  to  per 
suade  the  States- General  to  recognize  our  independence,  his  incessant  and  in 
defatigable  exertions  to  represent  the  American  cause  favorably  on  the  Conti 
nent,  and  to  counteract  the  designs  of  its  enemies,  open  and  secret,  and  his 
successful  undertaking  to  obtain  loans,  on  the  credit  of  a  nation  yet  new  and 
unknown,  are  among  his  most  arduous,  most  useful,  most  honorable  services. 
It  was  his  fortune  to  bear  a  part  in  the  negotiation  for  peace  with  England, 
and  in  something  more  than  six  years  from  the  Declaration  which  he  had  so 
strenuously  supported,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  minister  plenipo 
tentiary  of  the  crown  subscribe  his  name  to  the  instrument  which  declared 
that  his  "Britannic  Majesty  acknowledged  the  United  States  to  be  free,  sover 
eign,  and  independent."  In  these  important  transactions,  Mr.  Adams'  con 
duct  received  the  marked  approbation  of  Congress  and  of  the  country. 

While  abroad,  in  1787,  he  published  his  Defence  of  the  American  Con 
stitutions  ;  a  work  of  merit  and  ability,  though  composed  with  haste,  on  the 
spur  of  a  particular  occasion,  in  the  midst  of  other  occupations,  and  under  cir 
cumstances  not  admitting  of  careful  revision.  The  immediate  object  of  the 
work  was  to  counteract  the  weight  of  opinions  advanced  by  several  popular 
European  writers  of  that  day,  M.  Turgot,  the  Abbe  de  Mably,  and  Dr.  Price, 
at  a  time  when  the  people  of  the  United  States  were  employed  in  forming  and 
revising  their  systems  of  government. 

Returning  to  the  United  States  in  1788,  he  found  the  new  government 
about  going  into  operation,  and  was  himself  elected  the  first  Vice  President,  a 
situation  which  he  filled  with  reputation  for  eight  years,  at  the  expiration  ot 
which  he  was  raised  to  the  Presidential  chair,  as  immediate  successor  to  the 
immortal  Washington.  In  this  high  station  he  was  succeeded  by  Mr.  Jeffer 
son,  after  a  memorable  controversy  between  their  respective  friends,  in  1801 ; 
and  from  that  period  his  manner  of  life  has  been  known  to  all  who  hear  me. 
He  has  lived  for  five-and-twenty  years,  with  every  enjoyment  that  could  ren 
der  old  age  happy.  Not  inattentive  to  the  occurrences  of  the  times,  political 
cares  have  yet  not  materially,  or  for  any  long  time,  disturbed  his  repose.  In 
18*20  he  acted  as  elector  of  President  and  Vice  President,  and  in  the  same 
year  we  saw  him,  then  at  the  age  of  eighty-five,  a  member  of  the  Convention 
of  this  Commonwealth" called  to  revise  the  Constitution.  Forty  years  before, 
he  had  been  one  of  those  who  formed  that  Constitution ;  and  he  had  now  the 
pleasure  of  witnessing  that  there  was  little  which  the  people  desired  to  change. 
Possessing  all  his  faculties  to  the  end  of  his  long  life,  with  an  unabated  love 
of  reading  and  contemplation,  in  the  centre  of  interesting  circles  of  friendship 
and  affection,  he  was  blessed  in  his  retirement  with  whatever  of  repose  and 
felicity  the  condition  of  man  allows.  He  had,  also,  other  enjoyments.  He 
saw  around  him  that  prosperity  and  general  happiness  which  had  been  the 
object  of  his  public  cares  and  labors.  No  man  ever  beheld  more  clearly, 
and  for  a  longer  time,  the  great  and  beneficial  effects  of  the  services  rendered 
by  himself  to  his  country.  That  liberty  which  he  so  early  defended,  that  in 
dependence  of  which  he  was  so  able  an  advocate  and  supporter,  he  saw,  we 
trust,  firmly  and  securely  established.  The  population  of  the  country  thick 
ened  around  him  faster,  and  extended  wider,  than  his  own  sanguine  predic 
tions  had  anticipated ;  and  the  wealth,  respectability,  and  power  of  the  nation 


89 

sprang  up  to  a  magnitude  which  it  is  quite  impossible  he  could  have  expected 
to  witness  in  his  day.  He  lived  also  to  behold  those  principles  of  civil  free 
dom  which  had  been  developed,  established,  and  practically  applied  in  Amer 
ica,  attract  attention,  command  respect,  and  awaken  imitation,  in  other  regions 
of  the  globe ;  and  well  might,  and  well  did  he  exclaim,  "  Where  will  the  con 
sequences  of  the  American  Revolution  end  ? " 

If  any  thing  yet  remains  to  fill  this  cup  of  happiness,  let  it  be  added,  that 
he  lived  to  see  a  great  and  intelligent  people  bestow  the  highest  honor  in  their 
gift  where  he  had  bestowed  his  own  kindest  parental  affections  and  lodged  his 
fondest  hopes.  Thus  honored  in  life,  thus  happy  at  death,  he  saw  the  JUBILEE, 
and  he  died ;  and  with  the  last  prayers  which  trembled  on  his  lips  was  the 
fervent  supplication  for  his  country,  "  Independence  for  ever ! " 

Mr.  Jefferson,  having  been  occupied  in  the  years  1778  and  1779  in  the  im 
portant  service  of  revising  the  laws  of  Virginia,  was  elected  Governor  of  that 
State,  as  successor  to  Patrick  Henry,  and  held  the  situation  when  the  State 
was  invaded  by  the  British  arms.  In  1781  he  published  his  Notes  on  Vir 
ginia,  a  work  which  attracted  attention  in  Europe  as  well  as  America,  dispelled 
many  misconceptions  respecting  this  continent,  and  gave  its  author  a  place 
among  men  distinguished  for  science.  In  November,  1783,  he  again  took 
his  seat  in  the  Continental  Congress,  but  in  May  following  was  appointed 
Minister  Plenipotentiary,  to  act  abroad,  in  the  negociation  of  commercial  trea 
ties,  with  Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  Adams.  He  proceeded  to  France  in  execution 
of  this  mission,  embarking  at  Boston ;  and  that  was  ^he  only  occasion  on  which 
he^ever  visited  this  place.  In  1785  he  was  appointed  Minister  to  France,  the 
duties  of  which  situation  he  continued  to  perform  until  October,  1789,  when 
he  obtained  leave  to  retire,  just  on  the  eve  of  that  tremendous  revolution  which 
has  so  much  agitated  the  world  in  our  times.  Mr.  Jefferson's  discharge  of  his 
diplomatic  duties  was  marked  by  great  ability,  diligence,  and  patriotism ;  and 
while  he  resided  at  Paris,  in  one  of  the  most  interesting  periods,  his  charac 
ter  for  intelligence,  his  love  of  knowledge,  and  of  the  society  of  learned  men, 
distinguished  him  in  the  highest  circles  of  the  French  capital.  No  court  in 
Europe  had  at  that  time  in  Paris  a  representative  commanding  or  enjoying 
higher  regard,  for  political  knowledge  or  for  general  attainments,  than  the 
minister  of  this  then  infant  republic.  Immediately  on  his  return  to  his  native 
country,  at  the  organization  of  the  government  under  the  present  Constitution, 
his  talents  and  experience  recommended  him  to  President  Washington  for  the 
first  office  in  his  gift.  He  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the  Department  of  State. 
In  this  situation,  also,  he  manifested  conspicuous  ability.  His  correspondence 
with  the  ministers  of  other  powers  residing  here,  and  his  instructions  to  our 
own  diplomatic  agents  abroad,  are  among  our  ablest  state  papers.  A  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  laws  and  usages  of  nations,  perfect  acquaintance  with  the 
immediate  subject  before  him,  great  felicity,  and  still  greater  facility,  in  wri 
ting,  show  themselves  in  whatever  his  official  situation  called  on  him  to  make. 
It  is  believed  by  competent  judges,  that  the  diplomatic  intercourse  of  the  gov 
ernment  of  the  United  States,  from  the  first  meeting  of  the  Continental  Con 
gress  in  1774  to  the  present  time,  taken  together,  would  not  suffer  in  respect 
to  the  talent  with  which  it  has  been  conducted,  by  comparison  with  any  thing 
which  other  and  older  governments  can  produce;  and  to  the  attainment 
of  this  respectability  and  distinction  Mr.  Jefferson  has  contributed  his  full 
part. 

On  the  retirement  of  General  Washington  from  the  presidency,  and  the 
election  of  Mr.  Adams  to  that  office,  in  1797,  he  was  chosen  Vice-Presideni. 


90 

While  presiding,  in  this  capacity,  over  the  deliberations  of  the  senate,  he  com 
piled  and  published  a  Manual  of  Parliamentary  Practice,  a  work  of  moi-o 
labor  and  more  merit,  than  is  indicated  by  its  size.  It  is  now  received,  as  tiie 
general  standard,  by  which  proceedings  are  regulated,  not  only  in  both  Houses 
of  Congress,  but  in  most  of  the  other  legislative  bodies  in  the  country.  In 
1801,  he  was  elected  President,  in  opposition  to  Mr.  Adams,  and  re-elected  in 
1805,  by  a  vote  approaching  towards  unanimity. 

From  the  time  of  his  final  retirement  from  public  life,  in  1808,  Mr.  Jeffer 
son  lived  as  became  a  wise  man.  Surrounded  by  affectionate  friends,  his 
ardor  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  undiminished,  with  uncommon  health,  and 
unbroken  spirits,  he  was  able  to  enjoy  largely  the  rational  pleasures  of  life, 
and  to  partake  in  that  public  prosperity,  which  he  had  so  much  contributed  to 
produce.  His  kindness  and  hospitality,  the  charm  of  his  conversation,  the 
ease  of  his  manners,  the  extent  of  his  acquirements,  and  especially  the  full 
store  of  revolutionary  incidents,  which  he  possessed,  and  which  he  knew  when 
and  how  to  dispense,  rendered  his  abode  in  a  high  degree  attractive  to  his  ad 
miring  countrymen,  while  his  high  public  and  scientific  character  drew  to 
wards  him  every  intelligent  and  educated  traveller  from  abroad.  Both  Mr. 
Adams  and  Mr.  Jefferson  had  the  pleasure  of  knowing  that  the  respect,  which 
they  so  largely  received,  was  not  paid  to  their  official  stations.  They  were  not 
men  made  great  by  office;  but  great  men,  on  whom  the  country  for  its  own 
benefit  had  conferred  office.  There  was  that  in  them,  which  office  did  not 
give,  and  which  the  relinquishment  of  office,  did  not,  and  could  not  take 
away.  In  their  retirement,  in  the  midst  of  their  fellow  citizens,  themselves 
private  citizens,  they  enjoyed  as  high  regard  and  esteem,  as  when  filling  the 
most  important  places  of  public  trust. 

There  remained  to  Mr.  Jefferson  yet  one  other  work  of  patriotism  and  ben 
eficence,  the  establishment  of  a  University  in  his  native  state.  To  this  object 
he  devoted  years  of  incessant  and  anxious  attention,  and  by  the  enlightened 
liberality  of  the  legislature  of  Virginia,  and  the  co-operation  of  other  able 
and  zealous  friends,  he  lived  to  see  it  accomplished.  May  all  success  attend 
this  infant  seminary ;  and  may  those  who  enjoy  its  advantages,  as  often  as 
their  eyes  shall  rest  on  the  neighboring  height,  recollect  what  they  owe  to  their 
disinterested  and  indefatigable  benefactor ;  and  may  letters  honor  him  who 
thus  labored  in  the  cause  of  letters. 

Thus  useful,  and  thus  respected,  passed  the  old  age  of  Thomas  Jefferson. 
But  time  was  on  its  ever  ceaseless  wing,  and  was  now  bringing  the  last  hour 
of  this  illustrious  man.  He  saw  its  approach,  with  undisturbed  serenity.  He 
counted  the  moments,  as  they  passed,  and  beheld  that  his  last  sands  were  fal 
ling.  That  day,  too,  was  at  hand,  which  he  had  helped  to  make  immortal. 
One  wish,  one  hope — if  it  were  not  presumptuous — beat  in  his  fainting  breast. 
Could  it  be  so — might  it  please  God — he  would  desire — once  more — to  see 
the  sun — once  more  to  look  abroad  on  the  scene  around  him,  on  the  great  day 
of  liberty.  Heaven,  in  its  mercy,  fulfilled  that  prayer.  He  saw  that  sun — 
he  enjoyed  its  sacred  light — he  thanked  God,  for  this  mercy,  and  bowed  his 
aged  head  to  the  grave.  "  Felix  non  vita  tantum  claritate,  sed  etiam  op- 
portunitate  mortis" 

The  last  public  labor  of  Mr.  Jefferson  naturally  suggests  the  expression  of 
the  high  praise  which  is  due,  both  to  him  and  to  Mr.  Adams,  for  their  uni 
form  and  zealous  attachment  to  learning,  and  to  the  cause  of  general  knowl 
edge.  Of  the  advantages  of  learning,  indeed,  and  of  literary  accomplish 
ments,  their  own  characters  were  striking  recommendations,  and  illustrations. 


91 

They  were  scholars,  ripe  and  good  scholars;  widely  acquainted  with  ancient, 
as  well  as  modern  literature,  and  not  altogether  uninstructed  in  the  deeper 
sciences.  Their  acquirements,  doubtless,  were  different,  and  so  were  the  parti 
cular  objects  of  their  literary  pursuits;  as- their  tastes  and  characters,  in  these 
respects,  differed  like  those  of  other  men.  Being,  also,  men  of  busy  lives,  with 
great  objects,  requiring  action,  constantly  before  them,  their  attainments  in 
letters  did  not  become  showy,  or  obtrusive.  Yet,  I  would  hazard  the  opinion, 
that  if  we  could  now  ascertain  all  the  causes  which  gave  them  eminence  and 
distinction,  in  the  midst  of  the  great  men  with  whom  they  acted,  we  should 
find,  not  among  the  least,  then-  early  acquisition  in  literature,  the  resources 
which  it  furnished,  the  promptitude  and  facility  which  it  communicated,  arid 
the  wide  field  it  opened,  for  analogy  and  illustration ;  giving  them,  thus,  on 
every  subject,  a  larger  view,  and  a  broader  range,  as  well  for  discussion,  as  for 
the  government  of  their  own  conduct. 

Literature  sometimes,  and  pretensions  to  it  much  oftener,  disgusts,  by  ap 
pearing  to  hang  loosely  on  the  character,  like  something  foreign  or  extraneous, 
not  a  part,  but  an  ill-adjusted  appendage ;  or  by  seeming  to  overload  and 
weigh  it  down,  by  its  unsightly  bulk,  like  the  productions  of  bad  taste  in  ar 
chitecture,  where  there  is  massy  and  cumbrous  ornament,  without  strength  or 
solidity  of  column.  This  has  exposed  learning,  and  especially  classical  learn 
ing,  to  reproach.  Men  have  seen  that  it  might  exist,  without  mental  superior 
ity,  without  vigor,  without  good  taste,  and  without  utility.  But  in  such  cases 
classical  learning  has  only  not  inspired  natural  talent ;  or,  at  most,  it  has  but 
made  original  feebleness  of  intellect,  and  natural  bluntness  of  perception, 
something  more  conspicuous.  The  question,  after  all,  if  it  be  a  question,  is 
whether  literature,  ancient  as  well  as  modern,  does  not  assist  a  good  under 
standing,  improve  natural  good  taste,  add  polished  armor  to  native  strength 
and  render  its  possessor,  not  only  more  capable  of  deriving  private  happiness 
from  contemplation  and  reflection,  but  more  accomplished,  also,  for  action  in 
the  affairs  of  life,  and  especially  for  public  action.  Those  whose  memories  we 
now  honor,  were  learned  men ;  but  their  learning  was  kept  in  its  proper  place, 
and  made  subservient  to  the  uses  and  objects  of  life.  They  were  scholars  not 
common,  nor  superficial ;  but  their  scholarship  was  so  in  keeping  with  their 
character,  so  blended  and  inwrought,  that  careless  observers,  or  bad  judges, 
not  seeing  an  ostentatious  display  of  it,  might  infer  that  it  did  not  exist;  for 
getting,  or  not  knowing,  that  classical  learning,  in  men  who  act  in  conspicu 
ous  public  stations,  perform  duties  which  exercise  the  faculty  of  writing,  or 
address  popular,  deliberative,  or  judicial  bodies,  is  often  felt,  where  it  is  little 
seen,  and  sometimes  felt  more  effectually,  because  it  is  not  seen  at  all. 

But  the  cause  of  knowledge,  in  a  more  enlarged  sense,  the  cause  of  general 
knowledge  and  of  popular  education,  had  no  warmer  friends,  nor  more  pow 
erful  advocates,  than  Mr.  Adams  and  Mr.  Jefferson.  On  this  foundation,  they 
knew  the  whole  republican  system  rested ;  and  this  great  and  all-important 
truth  they  strove  to  impress,  by  all  the  means  in  their  power.  In  the  early 
publication  already  referred  to,  Mr.  Adams  expresses  the  strong  and  just  senti 
ment,  that  the  education  of  the  poor  is  more  important,  even  to  the  rich  them 
selves,  than  all  their  own  riches.  On  this  great  truth,  indeed,  is  founded  that 
unrivalled,  that  invaluable  political  and  moral  institution,  our  own  blessing  and 
the  glory  of  our  fathers,  the  New  England  system  of  free  schools. 

As  the  promotion  of  knowledge  had  been  the  object  of  their  regard  through 
life,  so  these  great  men  made  it  the  subject  of  their  testamentary  bounty. 
Mr.  Jefferson  is  understood  to  have  bequeathed  his  library  to  tho  University 


92 

of  Virginia,  and  that  of  Mr.  Adams  is  bestowed   on  the   inhabitants  of 
Quincy. 

Mr.  Adams  and  Mr.  Jefferson,  fellow-citizens,  were  successively  Presidents 
of  the  United  States.  The  comparative  merits  of  their  respective  adminis 
trations  for  a  long  time  agitated  and  divided  public  opinion.  They  were  ri 
vals,  each  supported  by  numerous  and  powerful  portions  of  the  people,  for  the 
highest  office.  This  contest,  partly  the  cause  and  partly  the  consequence  of 
the  long  existence  of  two  great  political  parties  in  the  country,  is  now  part  of 
the  history  of  our  government.  We  may  naturally  regret  that  any  thing 
should  have  occurred  to  create  difference  and  discord  between  those  who  had 
acted  harmoniously  and  efficiently  in  the  great  concerns  of  the  Revolution. 
But  this  is  not  the  time,  nor  this  the  occasion,  for  entering  into  the  grounds  of 
that  difference,  or  for  attempting  to  discuss  the  merits  of  the  question  which  it 
involves.  As  practical  questions,  they  were  canvassed  when  the  measures 
which  they  regarded  were  acted  on  and  adopted ;  and  as  belonging  to  history, 
the  time  had  not  come  for  their  consideration. 

It  is,  perhaps,  not  wonderful,  that,  when  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States  first  went  into  operation,  different  opinions  should  be  entertained  as  to 
the  extent  of  the  powers  conferred  by  it.  Here  was  a  natural  source  of  diver 
sity  of  sentiment.  It  is  still  less  wonderful,  that  that  event,  nearly  contempo 
rary  with  our  government  under  the  present  Constitution,  which  so  entirely 
shocked  all  Europe,  and  disturbed  our  relations  with  her  leading  powers,  should 
be  thought,  by  different  men,  to  have  different  bearings  on  our  own  prosperi 
ty  ;  and  that  the  early  measures  adopted  by  the  government  of  the  United 
States,  in  consequence  of  this  new  state  of  things,  should  be  seen  in  opposite 
lights.  It  is  for  the  future  historian,  when  what  now  remains  of  prejudice 
and  misconception  shall  have  passed  away,  to  state  these  different  opinions, 
and  pronounce  impartial  judgment.  In  the  mean  time,  all  good  men  rejoice, 
and  well  may  rejoice,  that  the  sharpest  differences  sprung  out  of  measures 
which,  whether  right  or  wrong,  have  ceased  with  the  exigencies  that  gave 
them  birth,  and  have  left  no  permanent  effect,  either  on  the  Constitution  01 
on  the  general  prosperity  of  the  country.  This  remark,  I  am  aware,  may  be 
supposed  to  have  its  exception  in  one  measure,  the  alteration  of  the  Constitu 
tion  as  to  the  mode  of  choosing  President;  but  it  is  true  in  its  general  appli 
cation.  Thus  the  course  of  policy  pursued  towards  France  in  1798,  on  the 
one  hand,  and  the  measures  of  commercial  restriction  commenced  in  1807,  on 
the  other,  both  subjects  of  warm  and  severe  opposition,  have  passed  away  and 
left  nothing  behind  them.  They  were  temporary,  and  whether  wise  or  un 
wise,  their  consequences  were  limited  to  their  respective  occasions.  It  is  equal 
ly  clear,  at  the  same  time,  and  it  is  equally  gratifying,  that  those  measures  of 
both  administrations  which  were  of  durable  importance,  and  which  drew  after 
them  momentous  and  long  remaining  consequences,  have  received  general  ap 
probation.  Such  was  the  organization,  or  rather  the  creation,  of  the  navy,  in 
the  administration  of  Mr.  Adams;  such  the  acquisition  of  Louisiana  in  that 
>f  Mr.  Jefferson.  The  country,  it  may  safely  be  added,  is  not  likely  to  be 
willing  either  to  approve,  or  to  rebrobate,  indiscriminately,  and  in  the  aggre 
gate,  all  the  measures  of  either  or  of  any,  administration.  The  dictate  of  rea 
son  and  of  justice  is,  that,  holding  each  one  his  own  sentiments  on  the  points 
of  difference,  we  imitate  the  great  men  themselves  in  the  forbearance  and 
moderation  which  they  have  cherished,  and  in  the  mutual  respect  and  kind 
ness  which  they  have  been  so  much  inclined  to  feel  and  to  reciprocate. 

No  men,  fellow-citizens,  ever  served  their  country  with  more  entire  exemp- 


don  from  every  imputation  of  selfish  and  mercenary  motives,  than  those  to 
whose  memory  we  are  paying  these  proofs  of  respect.  _  A  suspicion  of  any 
disposition  to  enrich  themselves,  or  to  profit  .by  their  public  employments,  never 
rested  on  either.  No  sordid  motive  approached  them.  The  inheritance  which 
they  have  left  to  their  children  is  of  their  character  and  their  fame. 

Fellow-citizens,  I  will  detain  you  no  longer  by  this  faint  and  feeble  tribute 
to  the  memory  of  the  illustrious  dead.  Even  in  other  hands,  adequate  justice 
could  not  be  done  to  them,  within  the  limits  of  this  occasion.  Their  highest, 
their  best  praise,  is  your  deep  conviction  of  their  merits,  your  affectionate  gra 
titude  for  their  labors  and  their  services.  It  is  not  my  voice,  it  is  this  cessation 
of  ordinary  pursuits,  this  arresting  of  all  attention,  these  solemn  ceremonies, 
and  this  crowded  house,  which  speak  their  eulogy.  Their  fame,  indeed,  is 
safe.  That  is  now  treasured  up  beyond  the  reach  of  accident.  Although  no 
sculptured  marble  should  rise  to  their  memory,  nor  engraved  stone  bear  record 
of  their  deeds, "yet  will  their  remembrance  be  as  lasting  as  the  land  they  hon 
ored.  Marble  columns  may,  indeed,  moulder  into  dust,  time  may  erase  all 
impress  from  the  crumbling  stone,  but  then-  fame  remains ;  for  with  AMERICAN 
LIBERTY  it  rose,  and  with  AMERICAN  LIBERTY  ONLY  can  it  perish.  It  was 
the  last  swelling  peal  of  yonder  choir,  "  THEIR  BODIES  ARE  BURIED  IN  PEACE, 
BUT  THEIR  NAME  LiVETH  EVERMORE."  I  catch  that  solemn  song,  I  echo  that 
lofty  strain  of  funeral  triumph,  "  THEIR  NAME  LIVETH  EVERMORE." 

Of  the  illustrious  signers  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  there  now  re 
mains  only  CHARLES  CARROLL.  He  seems  an  aged  oak,  standing  alone  on 
the  plain,  which  time  has  spared  a  little  longer  after  all  its  contemporaries  have 
been  levelled  with  the  dust.  Venerable  object !  we  delight  to  gather  round 
its  trunk,  while  yet  it  stands,  and  to  dwell  beneath  its  shadow.  Sole  survivor 
of  an  assembly  of  as  great  men  as  the  world  has  witnessed,  in  a  transaction 
one  of  the  most  important  that  history  records,  what  thoughts,  what  interest 
ing  reflections,  must  fill  his  elevated  and  devout  soul !  If  he  dwell  on  the 
past,  how  touching  its  recollections ;  if  he  survey  the  present,  how  happy,  how 
joyous,  how  full  of  the  fruition  of  that  hope,  which  his  ardent  patriotism  in 
dulged  ;  if  he  glance  at  the  future,  how  does  the  prospect  of  his  country's  ad 
vancement  almost  bewilder  his  weakened  conception !  Fortunate,  distinguished 
patriot!  Interesting  relic  of  the  past!  Let  him  know  that,  while  we  honor 
the  dead,  we  do  not  forget  the  living ;  and  that  there  is  not  a  heart  here  which 
does  not  fervently  pray,  that  Heaven  may  keep  him  yet  back  from  the  society 
of  his  companions. 

And  now,  fellow-citizens,  let  us  not  retire  from  this  occasion  without  a  deep 
and  solemn  conviction  of  the  duties  which  have  devolved  upon  us.  This  lovely 
land,  this  glorious  liberty,  these  benign  institutions,  the  dear  purchase  of  our 
fathers,  are  ours ;  ours  to  enjoy,  ours  to  preserve,  ours  to  transmit.  Genera 
tions  past  and  generations  to  come  hold  us  responsible  for  this  sacred  trust. 
Our  fathers,  from  behind,  admonish  us,  with  their  anxious  paternal  voices; 
posterity  calls  out  to  us,  from  the  bosom  of  the  future ;  the  world  turns  hither 
its  solicitous  eyes ;  all,  all  conjure  us  to  act  wisely,  and  faithfully,  in  the  rela 
tion  which  we  sustain.  We  can  never,  indeed,  pay  the  debt  which  is  upon 
us ;  but  by  virtue,  by  morality,  by  religion,  by  the  cultivation  of  every  good 
principle  and  every  good  habit,  we  may  hope  to  enjoy  the  blessing,  through  our 
day.  and  to  leave  it  unimpaired  to  our  children.  Let  us  feel  deeply  how 
much  of  what  we  are  and  of  what  we  possess  we  owe  to  this  liberty,  and  to 
these  institutions  of  government.  Nature  has,  indeed,  given  us  a  soil  which 
yields  bounteously  to  the  hand  of  industry,  the  mighty  and  fruitful  ocean  is 


94 

before  us,  and  the  skies  over  our  Leads  shed  health  and  vigor.  But  what 
are  lands,  and  seas,  and  skies,  to  civilized  man  without  society,  without  knowl 
edge,  without  morals,  religious  culture ;  and  how  can  these  be  enjoyed,  in  all 
their  extent  and  all  their  excellence,  but  under  the  protection  of  wise  institu 
tions  and  a  free  government  ?  Fellow-citizens,  there  is  not  one  of  us,  there  is 
not  one  of  us  here  present,  who  does  not,  at  this  moment,  and  at  every  mo 
ment,  experience,  in  his  own  condition,  and  in  the  condition  of  those  most 
near  and  dear  to  him,  the  influence  and  the  benefits  of  this  liberty  and  these 
institutions.  Let  us  then  acknowledge  the  blessing,  let  us  feel  it  deeply  and 
powerfully,  let  us  cherish  a  strong  affection  for  it,  and  resolve  to  maintain  and 
perpetuate  it.  The  blood  of  our  fathers,  let  it  not  have  been  shed  in  vain ; 
the  great  hope  of  posterity,  let  it  not  be  blasted. 

The  striking  attitude,  too,  in  which  we  stand  to  the  world  around  us,  a  to 
pic  to  which,  I  fear,  I  advert  too  often,  and  dwell  on  too  long,  cannot  be  alto 
gether  omitted  here.  Keither  individuals  nor  nations  can  perform  their  part 
well,  until  they  understand  and  feel  its  importance,  and  comprehend  and  justly 
appreciate  all  the  duties  belonging  to  it.  It  is  not  to  inflate  national  vanity, 
nor  to  swell  a  light  and  empty  feeling  of  self-importance,  but  it  is  that  we  may 
judge  justly  of  our  situation,  and  of  our  own  duties,  that  I  earnestly  uige 
upon  you  this  consideration  of  our  position  and  our  character  among  the  na 
tions  of  the  earth.  It  cannot  be  denied,  but  by  those  wrho  would  dispute 
against  the  sun,  that  with  America,  and  in  America,  a  new  era  commences  in 
liuman  affairs.  This  era  is  distinguished  by  free  representative  governments, 
by  entire  religious  liberty,  by  improved  systems  of  national  intercourse,  by  a 
newly  awakened  and  an  unconquerable  spirit  of  free  inquiry,  and  by  a  diffusion 
of  knowledge  through  the  community,  such  as  has  been  before  altogether  un 
known  and  unheard  of.  America,  America,  our  country,  fellow-citizens,  our 
own  dear  and  native  land,  is  inseparably  connected,  fast  bound  up,  in  fortune 
and  by  fate,  with  these  great  interests.  If  they  fall,  we  fall  with  them ;  if 
they  stand,  it  will  be  because  we  have  maintained  them.  Let  us  contemplate, 
then,  this  connection,  which  binds  the  prosperity  of  others  to  our  own ;  and 
let  us  manfully  discharge  all  the  duties  which  it  imposes.  If  we  cherish  the 
virtues  and  the  principles  of  our  fathers,  Heaven  will  assist  us  to  carry  on  the 
work  of  human  liberty  and  human  happiness.  Auspicious  omens  cheer  us. 
Great  examples  are  before  us.  Our  own  firmament  now  shines  brightly  upon 
our  path.  WASHINGTON  is  in  the  clear,  upper  sky.  These  other  stars  have 
now  joined  the  American  constellation ;  they  circle  round  their  centre,  and  the 
heavens  beam  with  new  light.  Beneath  this  illumination  let  us  walk  the  course 
of  life,  and  at  its  close  devoutly  commend  our  beloved  country,  the  common 
parent  of  us  all,  to  the  Divine  Benignity. 


FIRST  SETTLEMENT  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 

DELIVERED     AT    PLYMOUTH,     DEC,    2  2  D  ,    1820. 

LET  us  rejoice  that  we  behold  this  day.  Let  us  be  thankful  that  we  have 
lived  to  see  the  bright  and  happy  breaking  of  the  auspicious  morn,  which 
commences  the  third  century  of  the  history  of  New  England.  Auspicious, 
indeed — bringing  a  happiness  beyond  the  common  allotment  of  Providence 
to  men — full  of  present  joy,  and  gilding  with  bright* beams  the  prospect  of 
futurity,  is  the  dawn  that  awakens  us  to  the  commemoration  of  the  landing 
of  the  Pilgrims. 

Living  at  an  epoch  which  naturally  marks  the  progress  of  the  history  of 
our  native  land,  we  have  come  hither  to  celebrate  the  great  event  with  which 
that  history  commenced.  For  ever  honored  be  this,  the  place  of  our  fathers' 
refuge !  For  ever  remembered  the  day  which  saw  them,  weary  and  distress 
ed,  broken  in  every  thing  but  spirit,  poor  in  all  but  faith  and  courage,  at  last 
secure  from  the  dangers  of  wintry  seas,  and  impressing  this  shore  with  the 
first  footsteps  of  civilized  man ! 

It  is  a  noble  faculty  of  our  nature  which  enables  us  to  connect  our  thoughts 
our  sympathies,  and  our  happiness  with  what  is  distant  in  place  or  time ;  and 
looking  before  and  after,  to  hold  communion  at  once  with  our  ancestors  and 
our  posterity.  Human  and  mortal  although  we  are,  we  are  nevertheless  not 
mere  insulated  beings,  without  relation  to  the  past  or  the  future.  Neither 
the  point  of  time,  nor  the  spot  of  earth,  in  which  we  physically  live,  bounds 
our  rational  and  intellectual  enjoyments.  We  live  in  the  past  by  a  knowl 
edge  of  its  history ;  and  in  the  future  by  hope  and  anticipation.  By  ascend 
ing  to  an  association  with  our  ancestors ;  by  contemplating  their  example  and 
studying  their  character ;  by  partaking  their  sentiments,  and  imbibing  their 
spirit;  by  accompanying  them  in  their  toils,  by  sympathizing  in  their  suffer 
ings,  and  rejoicing  in  their  successes  and  their  triumphs ;  we  seem  to  belong 
to  their  age,  and  to  mingle  our  existence  with  theirs.  We  become  their  con 
temporaries,  live  the  lives  which  they  lived,  endure  what  they  endured,  and 
partake  in  the  rewards  which  they  enjoyed.  And  in  like  manner,  by  run 
ning  along  the  line  of  future  time,  by  contemplating  the  probable  fortunes  of 
those  who  are  coming  after  us,  by  attempting  something  which  may  promote 
their  happiness,  and  leave  some  not  dishonorable  memorial  of  ourselves  for 
their  regard,  when  we  shall  sleep  with  the  fathers,  we  protract  our  own  earth 
ly  being,  and  seem  to  crowd  whatever  is  future,  as  well  as  all  that  is  past,  in 
to  the  narrow  compass  of  our  earthly  existence.  As  it  is  not  a  vain  and 
false,  but  an  exhalted  and  religious  imagination,  which  leads  us  to  raise  our 
thoughts  from  the  orb,  which,  amidst  this  universe  of  worlds,  the  Creator  has 
given  us  to  inhabit,  and  to  send  them  with  something  of  the  feeling  which 
nature  prompts,  and  teaches  to  be  proper  among  children  of  the  same  Eternal 
Parent,  to  the  contemplation  of  the  myriads  of  fellow-beings,  with  which  his 
goodness  has  peopled  the  infinite  of  space;  so  neither  is  it  false  or  vain  to  con 
sider  ourselves  as  interested  and  connected  with  our  whole  race,  through  all 


time ;  allied  to  our  ancestors ;  allied  to  our  posterity ;  closely  compacted  on 
all  sides  with  others ;  ourselves  being  but  links  in  the  great  chain  of  being, 
which  begins  with  the  origin  of  our  race,  runs  onward  through  its  successive 
generations,  binding  together  the  past,  the  present,  and  the  future,  and  ter 
minating  at  last,  with  the  consummation  of  all  things  earthly,  at  the  throne 
of  God. 

/There  may  be,  and  there  often  is,  indeed,  a  regard  for  ancestry,  which 
nourishes  only  a  weak  pride ;  as  there  is  also  a  care  for  posterity,  which  only 
disguises  an  habitual  avarice,  or  hides  the  workings  of  alow  and  grovelling 
vanity.  But  there  is  also  a  moral  and  philosophical  respect  for  our  ancestors, 
which  elevates  the  character  and  improves  the  heart  Next  to  the  sense  of 
religious  duty  and  moral  feeling,  I  hardly  know  what  should  bear  with  strong 
er  obligation  on  a  liberal  and  enlightened  mind,  than  a  consciousness  of  alli 
ance  with  excellence  which  is  departed ;  and  a  consciousness,  too,  that  in  its 
acts  and  conduct,  and  even  in  its  sentiments  and  thoughts,  it  may  be  actively1 
operating  on  the  happiness  of  those  who  come  after  it.  Poetry  is  found  to 
have  few  stronger  conceptions  by  which  it  would  affect  or  overwhelm  the 
mind,  than  those  in  which  it  presents  the  moving  and  speaking  image  of  the 
departed  dead  to  the  senses  of  the  living.  This  belongs  to  poetry,  only  be 
cause  it  is  congenial  to  our  nature.  Poetry,  is,  in  this  respect,  but  the  hand 
maid  of  true  philosophy  and  morality ;  it  deals  with  us  as  human  beings, 
naturally  reverencing  those  whose  visible  connection  with  this  state  of  exist 
ence  is  severed,  and  who  may  yet  exercise  we  know  not  what  sympathy  with 
ourselves;  and  when  it  carries  us  forward,  also,  and  shows  us  the  long- 
continued  result  of  all  the  good  we  do,  in  the  prosperity  of  those  who  follow 
us,  till  it  bears  us  from  ourselves,  and  absorbs  us  in  an  intense  interest  for 
what  shall  happen  to  the  generations  after  us,  it  speaks  only  in  the  language 
\  of  our  nature,  and  affects  us  with  sentiments  which  belong  to  us  as  human 
beings. 

Standing  in  this  relation  to  our  ancestors  and  our  posterity,  we  are  assem 
bled  on  this  memorable  spot,  to  perform  the  duties  which  that  relation  and 
the  present  occasion  impose  upon  us.  We  have  come  to  this  Rock,  to  record 
here  our  homage  for  our  Pilgrim  Fathers;  our  sympathy  in  their  sufferings; 
our  gratitude  for  their  labors ;  our  admiration  of  their  virtues ;  our  veneration 
for  their  piety;  and  our  attachment  to  those  principles  of  civil  and  religious 
liberty,  which  they  encountered  the  dangers  of  the  ocean,  the  storms  of 
heaven,  the  violence  of  savages,  disease,  exile  and  famine,  to  enjoy  and  to  es 
tablish.  And  we  would  leave  here,  also,  for  the  generations  which  are  rising 
up  rapidly  to  fill  our  places,  some  proof  that  we  have  endeavored  to  transmi  t 
the  great  inheritance  unimpaired ;  that  in  our  estimate  of  public  principles 
and  private  virtue,  in  our  veneration  of  religion  and  piety,  in  our  devotion  to 
civil  and  religious  liberty,  in  our  regard  for  whatever  advances  human  knowl 
edge  or  improves  human  happiness,  we  are  not  altogether  unworthy  of  our 
origin. 

There  is  a  local  feeling  connected  with  this  occasion,  too  strong  to  be  resisted ; 
a  sort  of  genius  of  the  place,  which  inspires  and  awes  us.  We  feel  that  we 
are'  on  the  spot  where  the  first  scene  of  our  history  was  laid ;  where  the 
hearths  and  altars  of  New  England  were  first  placed;  where  Christianity,  and 
civilization,  and  letters  made  their  first  lodgement,  in  a  vast  extent  of  country, 
covered  with  a  wilderness,  and  peopled  by  roving  barbarians.  We  are  here, 
at  the  season  of  the  year  at  which  the  event  took  place.  The  imagination 
irresistibly  and  rapidly  draws  around  us  the  principal  features  and  the  leading 


97 

characters  in  the  original  scene.  We  cast  our  eyes  abroad  on  the  ocean,  and 
we  see  where  the  little  bark,  with  the  interesting  group  upon  its  deck,  made  its 
slow  progress  to  the  shore.  We  look  around  us,  and  behold  the  hills  and 
promontories  where  the  anxious  eyes  of-  our  lathers  first  saw  the  places  of 
habitation  and  of  rest  We  feel  the  cold  which  benumbed,  and  listen  to  the 
winds  which  pierced  them.  Beneath  us  is  the  Rock,  on  which  New  England 
received  the  feet  of  the  Pilgrims.  We  seem  even  to  behold  them,  as  they 
struggle  with  the  elements,  and  with  toilsome  efforts,  gain  the  shore.  We 
listen  to  the  chiefs  in  council ;  we  see  the  unexampled  exhibition  of  female 
fortitude  and  resignation ;  we  hear  the  whisperings  of  youthful  impatience ; 
and  we  see,  what  a  painter  of  our  own  has  also  represented  by  his  pencil, 
chilled  and  shivering  childhood — houseless,  but  for  a  mother's  arms — couch- 
less,  but  for  a  mother's  breast,  till  our  own  blood  almost  freezes.  The  mild 
dignity  of  CARVER  and  of  BRADFORD  ;  the  decisive  and  soldier-like  air  and 
manner  of  STANDISH;  the  devout  BREWSTER;  the  enterprising  ALLERTON  ; 
the  general  firmness  and  thoughtfulness  of  the  whole  band ;  their  conscious 
joy  for  dangers  escaped;  their  deep  solicitude  about  dangers  to  come;  their 
trust  in  Heaven ;  their  high  religious  faith,  full  of  confidence  and  anticipation ; 
all  of  these  seem  to  belong  to  this  place,  and  to  be  present  upon  this  occasion, 
to  fill  us  with  reverence  and  admiration. 

7  The  settlement  of  New  England  by  the  colony  which  landed  here  on  the 
twenty-second  of  December,  sixteen  hundred  and  twenty,  although  not  the 
first  European  establishment  in  what  now  constitutes  the  United  States,  was 
yet  so  peculiar  in  its  causes  and  character,  and  has  been  followed,  and  must 
still  be  foHowed  by  such  consequences,  as  to  give  it  a  high  claim  to  lasting 
commemoration.  On  these  causes  and  consequences,  more  than  on  its  im 
mediate  attendant  circumstances,  its  importance,  as  an  historical  event,  depends. 
Great  actions  and  striking  occurrences,  having  excited  a  temporary  admiration, 
often  pass  away  and  are  forgotten,  because  they  leave  no  lasting  results,  affect 
ing  the  prosperity  and  happiness  of  communities.  Such  is  frequently  the 
fortune  of  the  most  brilliant  military  achievements.  Of  the  ten  thousand 
battles  which  have  been  fought,  of  all  the  fields  fertilized  with  carnage,  of  the 
banners  which  have  been  bathed  in  blood,  of  the  warriors  who  have  hoped 
that  they  had  risen  from  the  field  of  conquest  to  a  glory  as  bright  and  as 
durable  as  the  stars,  how  few  that  continue  long  to  interest  mankind  !  The 
victory  of  yesterday  is  reversed  by  the  defeat  of  to-day ;  the  star  of  military 
glory,  rising  like  a  meteor,  like  a  meteor  has  fallen;  disgrace  and  disaster 
hang  on  the  heels  of  conquest  and  renown;  victor  and  vanquished  presently 
pass  away  to  oblivion,  and  the  world  goes  on  in  its  course,  with  the  loss  only 
of  so  many  lives  and  so  much  treasure. 

But  if  this  be  frequently,  or  generally,  the  fortune  of  military  achievements, 
it  is  not  always  so.  There  are  enterprises,  military  as  well  as  civil,  which 
sometimes  check  the  current  of  events,  give  a  new  turn  to  human  affairs,  and 
transmit  their  consequences  through  ages.  We  see  their  importance  in  their 
results,  and  call  them  great,  because  great  things  follow.  There  have  been 
battles  which  have  fixed  the  fate  of  nations.  These  come  down  to  us  in  his 
tory  with  a  solid  and  permanent  interest,  not  created  by  a  display  of  glittering 
armor,  the  rush  of  adverse  battalions,  the  sinking  and  rising  of  pennons,  tho 
flight,  the  pursuit,  and  the  victory ;  but  by  their  effect  in  advancing  or  retard 
ing  human  knowledge,  in  overthrowing  or  establishing  despotism,  in  extend 
ing  or  destroying  human  happiness.  When  the  traveller  pauses  on  the  plain 
of  Marathon,  what  are  the  emotions  which  strongly  agitate  his  breast  ?  What 
7 


98 

is  that  glorious  recollection,  which  thrills  through  his  frame,  and  suffuses  Lis 
eyes  ?  Not,  I  imagine,  that  Grecian  skill  and  Grecian  valor  were  here  most 
signally  displayed ;  but  that  Greece  herself  was  saved.  It  is  because  to  this 
spot,  and  to  the  event  which  has  rendered  it  immortal,  he  refers  all  the  sue 
ceeding  glories  of  the  republic.  It  is  because,  if  that  day  had  gone  other 
wise,  Greece  had  perished.  It  is  because  he  perceives  that  her  philosophers 
and  orators,  her  poets  and  painters,  her  sculptors  and  architects,  her  govern 
ments  and  free  institutions,  point  backward  to  Marathon,  and  that  their  future 
existence  seems  to  have  been  suspended  on  the  contingency,  whether  the  Per 
sian  or  the  Grecian  banner  should  wave  victorious  in  the  beams  of  that  day's 
setting  sun.  And,  as  his  imagination  kindles  at  the  retrospect,  he  is  trans 
ported  back  to  the  interesting  moment;  he  counts  the  fearful  odds  of  the 
contending  hosts ;  his  interest  for  the  result  overwhelms  him ;  he  trembles,  as 
if  it  were  still  uncertain,  and  seems  to  doubt  whether  he  may  consider 
Socrates  and  Plato,  Demosthenes,  Sophocles,  and  Phidias,  as  secure,  yet,  to 
himself  and  to  the  world. 

"  If  we  conquer,"  said  the  Athenian  commander  on  the  approach  of  that 
d*3isive  day,  "if  we  conquer,  we  shall  make  Athens  the  greatest  city  of 
Greece."  A  prophecy,  how  well  fulfilled!  "If  God  prosper  us,"  might 
have  been  the  more  appropriate  language  of  our  fathers,  when  they  landed 
upon  this  Rock,  "if  God  prosper  us,  we  shall  tare  begin  a  work  \vhich  shall 
last  for  ages;  we  shall  plant  here  a  new  society,  in  the  principle  of  the  fullest 
liberty  and  the  purest  n.ligion;  we  shall  subdue  this  wilderness  which  is  be 
fore  us;  we  shall  fill  this  region  of  the  great  continent,  which  stretches  almost 
fi-om  pole  to  pole,  with  civilization  and  Christianity;  the  temples  of  the  true 
God  shall  rise,  where  now  ascends  the  smoke  of  idolatrous  sacrifice;  fields  an<] 
gardens,  the  flowers  of  summer,  and  the  waving  and  golden  harvest  of 
autumn  shall  spread  over  a  thousand  hills,  and  stretch  along  a  thousand  val 
leys,  never  yet,  since  the  creation,  reclaimed  to  the  use  of  civilized  man.  We 
shall  whiten  the  coast  with  the  canvass  of  a  prosperous  commerce;  we  shall 
stud  the  long  and  winding  shore  with  a  hundred  cities.  That  which  we  sow 
in  weakness  shall  be  raised  in  strength.  From  our  sincere,  but  houseless 
worship,  there  shall  spring  splendid  temples  to  record  God's  goodness;  from 
the  simplicity  of  our  social  union,  there  shall  arise  wise  and  politic  constitu 
tions  of  government^  full  of  the  liberty  which  we  ourselves  bring  and  breathe  • 
from  our  zeal  for  learning,  institutions  shall  spring  which  shall  scatter  the 
light  of  knowledge  throughout  the  land,  and,  in  time,  paying  back  where 
they  have  borrowed,  shall  contribute  their  part  to  the  great  aggregate  of  1m 
man  knowledge;  and  our  descendants,  through  all  generations,  shall  look 
k  to  this  spot,  and  to  this  hour,  with  unabated  affection  and  regard." 

A  brief  remembrance  of  the  causes  which  led  to  the  settlement  of  this 
place;  some  account  of  the  peculiarities  and  charcteristic  qualities  of  that  set 
tlement,  as  dHinguished  from  other  instances  of  colonization ;  a  short  notice 
of  tbo  jwogress  of  New  England  in  the  great  interests  of  society,  during  the 
century  which  is  now  elapsed;  with  a  few  observations  on  the  principles  upon 
which  society  and  government  are  established  in  this  country ;  comprise  all 
that  can  be  attempted,  and  much  more  than  can  be  satisfactorily  performed, 
on  the  present  occasion. 

Of  the  motives  which  influenced  the  first  settlers  to  a  voluntary  exile,  in 
duced  them  to  relinquish  their  native  country,  and  to  seek  an  asylum  in  this 
then  unexplored  wilderness,  the  first  and  principal,  no  doubt,  were  connected 
with  religion.  They  sought  to  enjoy  a  higher  degree  of  religious  freedom, 


99 

and  what  they  esteemed  a  purer  form  of  religious  worship,  than  was  allowed 
to  their  choice,  or  presented  to  their  imitation,  in  the  Old  World.  The  love 
of  religious  liberty  is  a  stronger  sentiment,,  when  fully  excited,  than  an  attach 
ment  to  civil  or  political  freedom.  That  freedom  which  the  conscience  de 
mands,  and  which  men  feel  bound  by  their  hope  of  salvation  to  contend  for, 
can  hardly  fail  to  be  attained.  Conscience,  in  the  cause  of  religion  and  the 
worship  of  the  Deity,  prepares  the  mind  to  act  and  to  suffer  beyond  almost  all 
other  causes.  It  sometimes  gives  an  impulse  so  irresistible,  that  no  fetters  of 
power  or  of  opinion  can  withstand  it.  History  instructs  us  that  this  love  of 
religious  liberty,  a  compound  sentiment  in  the  breast  of  man,  made  up  of  the 
clearest  sense  of  right  and  the  highest  conviction  of  duty,  is  able  to  look  the 
sternest  despotism  Tn  the  face,  and,  with  means  apparently  most  inadequate,  to 
shake  principalities ar,d powers.  There  is  a  boldness,  a  spirit  of  daring,  in 
religious  reformers,  not  to  be  measured  by  the  general  rules  which  control 
men's  purposes  and  actions.  If  the  hand  of  power  be  laid  upon  it,  this  only 
seems  to  augment  its  force  and  its  elasticity,  and  to  cause  its  action  to  be 
more  formidable  and  violent.  Human  invention  has  devised  nothing,  human 
power  has  compassed  nothing,  that  can  forcibly  restrain  it,  when  it  breaks 
forth.  Nothing  can  stop  it,  but  to  give  way  to  it ;  nothing  can  check  it,  but 
to  give  way  to  indulgence.  It  loses  its  power  only  when  it  has  gained  its  ob 
ject.  The  principle  of  toleration,  to  which  the  world  has  come  so  slowly,  is 
at  once  the  most  just  and  the  most  wise  of  all  principles.  Even  when  reli- 
gous  feeling  takes  a  character  of  extravagance  and  enthusiasm,  and  seems  to 
threaten  the  order  of  society  and  shake  the  columns  of  the  social  edifice,  its 
principal  danger  is  in  its  restraint.  If  it  be  allowed  indulgence  and  expan 
sion,  like  the  elemental  fires,  it  only  agitates,  and  perhaps  purities  the  atmos 
phere  ;  whilst  its  efforts  to  throw  off  restraint  would  burst  the  world  asunder. 
It  is  certain  that,  although  many  of  them  were  republicans  in  principle,  we 
have  no  evidence  that  our  New  England  ancestors  would  have  emigrated,  as 
they  did,  from  their  own  native  country,  would  have  become  wanderers  in 
Europe,  and  finally  would  have  undertaken  the  establishment  of  a  colony 
here,  merely  from  their  dislike  of  the  political  systems  of  Europe.  They 
fled  not  so  much  from  the  civil  government,  as  from  the  hierarchy,  and  the 
laws  which  enforced  conformity  to  the  church  establishment.  Mr.  Robinson 
had  left  England  as  early  as  1608,  on  account  of  the  persecutions  for  non 
conformity,  and  had  retired  to  Holland.  He  left  England,  from  no  disap 
pointed  ambition  in  affaire  of  state,  from  no  regrets  at  the  want  of  preferment 
in  the  church,  nor  from  any  motive  of  distinction  or  of  gain.  Uniformity  in 
matters  of  religion  was  pressed  with  such  extreme  rigor,  that  a  voluntary  exile 
seemed  the  most  eligible  mode  of  escaping  from  the  penalties  of  noncompli- 
ance.  The  accession  of  Elizabeth  had,  it  is  true,  quenched  the  fires  of  Smith- 
field,  and  put  an  end  to  the  easy  acquisition  of  the  crown  of  martyrdom. 
Her  long  reign  had  established  the  Reformation,  but  toleration  was  a  virtue 
beyond  her  conception,  and  beyond  the  age.  She  left  no  example  of  it  to 
her  successor ;  and  he  was  not  of  a  character  which  rendered  it  probable  that 
a  sentiment  either  so  wise  or  so  liberal  would  originate  with  him.  At  the 
present  period,  it  seems  incredible  that  the  learned,  accomplished,  unassuming, 
and  inoffensive  Robinson,  should  neither  be  tolerated  in  his  peaceable  mode  of 
worship  in  his  own  country,  nor  suffered  quietly  to  depart  from  it.  Yet  such 
was  the  fact.  He  left  his  country  by  stealth,  that  he  might  elsewhere  enjoy 
those  rights  which  ought  to  belong  to  men  in  all  countries.  The  departure 
of  the  Pilgrims  for  Holland  is  deeply  interesting,  from  its  circumstances,  and 


100 

also  as  it  marks  the  character  of  the  times,  independently  of  its  connection 
with  names  now  incorporated  with  the  history  of  empire.  The  embarkation 
was  intended  to  be  made  in  such  a  manner,  that  it  might  escape  the  notice 
of  the  officers  of  government.  Great  pains  had  been  taken  to  secure  boats, 
which  should  come  undiscovered  to  the  shore,  and  receive  the  fugitives;  and 
frequent  disappointments  had  been  experienced  in  this  respect. 

At  length  the  appointed  time  came,  bringing  with  it  unusual  severity  of 
cold  and  rain.  An  unfrequented  and  barren  heath,  on  the  shores  of  Lin 
colnshire,  was  the  selected  spot,  where  the  feet  of  the  Pilgrims  were  to  tread, 
for  the  last  time,  the  land  of  their  fathers.  The  vessel  which  was  to  receive 
them  did  not  come  until  the  next  day,  and  in  the  meantime  the  little  band 
was  collected,  and  men  and  women  a'nd  children  and  baggage  were  crowded 
together,  in  melancholy  and  distressed  confusion.  The  sea  was  rough,  and 
the  women  and  children  were  already  sick,  from  their  passage  down  the  river 
to  the  place  of  embarkation  on  the  sea.  At  length  the  wished-for  boat  silent 
ly  and  fearfully  approaches  the  shore,  and  men  and  women  and  children, 
shaking  with  fear  and  with  cold,  as  many  as  the  small  vessel  could  bear,  ven 
ture  oft'  on  a  dangerous  sea.  Immediately  the  advance  of  horses  is  heard  from 
behind,  armed  men  appear,  and  those  not  yet  embarked  are  seized,  and  taken 
into  custody.  In  the  hurry  of  the  moment,  the  first  parties  had  been  sent  on 
board  without  any  attempt  to  keep  members  of  the  same  family  together,  and 
on  account  of  the  appearance  of  the  horsemen,  the  boat  never  returned  for 
the  residue.  Those  who  had  got  away,  and  those  who  had  not.  were  in  equal 
distress-.  A  storm,  of  great  violence  and  long  duration,  arose  at  sea,  which 
not  only  protracted  the  voyage,  rendered  distressing  by  the  want  of  all  those 
accommodations  which  the  interruption  of  the  embarkation  had  occasioned, 
but  also  forced  the  vessel  out  of  her  course,  and  menaced  immediate  ship 
wreck;  while  those  on  shore,  when  they  were  dismissed  from  the  custody  of 
the  officers  of  justice,  having  no  longer  homes  or  houses  to  retire  to,  and  their 
friends  and  protectors  being  already  gone,  became  objects  of  necessary  charity, 
as  well  as  of  deep  commiseration. 

As  this  scene  passes  before  us,  we  can  hardly  forbear  asking,  whether  this 
be  a  band  of  malefactors  and  felons,  flying  from  justice.  What  are  their 
crimes,  that  they  hide  themselves  in  darkness  ?  To  what  punishment  are  they 
exposed,  that,  to  avoid  it,  men,  and  women,  and  children,  thus  encounter  the 
surf  of  the  North  Sea,  and  the  terrors  of  a  night  storm  ?  What  induces 
this  armed  pursuit,  and  this  arrest  of  fugitives,  of  all  ages  and  both  sexes  ? 
Truth  does  not  allow  us  to  answer  these  inquiries  in  a  manner  that  does  credit 
to  the  wisdom  or  the  justice  of  the  times.  This  was  not  the  flight  of  guilt, 
but  of  virtue.  It  was  an  humble  and  peaceable  religion,  flying  from  causeless 
oppression.  It  was  conscience,  attempting  to  escape  from  the  arbitrary  rule 
of  the  Stuarts.  It  was  Robinson  and  Brewstei,  leading  off  their  little  band 
from  their  native  soil,  at  first  to  find  shelter  on  the  shore  of  the  neighboring 
continent,  but  ultimately  to  come  hither;  and  having  surmounted  all  difficul 
ties  and  braved  a  thousand  dangers,  to  find  here  a  place  of  refuge  and  of  rest. 
Thanks  be  to  God,  that  this  spot  was  honored  as  the  asylum  of  religious  liber 
ty!  May  its  standard,  reared  here,  remain  for  ever!  May  it  rise  up  as  high 
as  heaven,  till  its  banner  shall  fan  the  air  of  both  continents,  and  wave  as  a 
glorious  ensign  of  peace  and  security  to  the  nations ! 

The  peculiar  character,  condition,  and  circumstances  of  the  colonies  which 
introduced  civilization  and  an  English  race  into  New  England,  afford  a  most 
interesting  and  extensive  topic  of  discussion.  On  these,  much  of  our  subse- 


roi 

quent  character  and  fortune  lias  depended.  Their  influence  has  essentially 
affected  our  whole  history,  through  the  two  centuries  which  have  elapsed ; 
and  as  they  have  become  intimately  connected  with  government,  laws,  and 
property,  as  well  as  our  opinions  on  the  Subjects  of  religion  and  civil  liberty, 
that  influence  is  likely  to  continue  to  be  felt  through  the  centuries  which  shall 
succeed.  Emigration  from  one  region  to  another,  and  the  emission  of  colonies 
to  people  countries  more  or  less  distant  from  the  residence  of  the  parent  stock, 
are  common  incidents  in  the  history  of  mankind ;  but  it  has  not  often,  per 
haps  never  happened,  that  the  establishment  of  colonies  should  be  attempted 
under  circumstances,  however  beset  with  present  difficulties  and  dangers,  yet 
so  favorable  to  ultimate  success,  and  so  conducive  to  magnificent  results,  as 
those  which  attended  the  first  settlements  on  this  part  of  the  American  conti 
nent.  In  other  instances,  emigration  has  proceeded  from  a  less  exalted  pur 
pose,  in  periods  of  less  general  intelligence,  or  more  without  plan  and  by  acci 
dent  ;  or  under  circumstances,  physical  and  moral,  less  favorable  to  the  expec 
tation  of  laying  a  foundation  for  great  public  prosperity  and  future  empire. 

A  great  resemblance  exists,  obviously,  between  all  the  English  colonies  es 
tablished  within  the  present  limits  of  the  United  States;  but  the  occasion  at 
tracts  our  attention  more  immediately  to  those  wh'ich  took  possession  of  New 
England,  and  the  peculiarities  of  these  furnish  a  strong  contrast  with  most 
other  instances  of  colonization. 

Among  the  ancient  nations,  the  Greeks,  no  doubt,  sent  forth  from  their 
territories  the  greatest  number  of  colonies.  So  numerous,  indeed,  were  they, 
and  so  great  the  extent  of  space  over  which  they  were  spread,  that  the  parent 
country  fondly  and  naturally  persuaded  herself  that  by  means  of  them  she 
had  laid  a  sure  foundation  for  the  universal  civilization  of  the  world.  These 
establishments,  from  obvious  causes,  were  most  numerous  in  places  most  con 
tiguous;  yet  they  were  found  on  the  coasts  of  France,  on  the  shores  of  the 
Euxine  Sea,  in  Africa,  and  even,  as  is  alleged,  on  the  borders  of  India.  These 
emigrations  appear  to  have  been  sometimes  voluntary  and  sometimes  compul 
sory  ;  arising  from  the  spontaneous  enterprise  of  individuals,  or  the  order  and 
regulation  of  government.  It  was  a  common  opinion  with  ancient  writers, 
that  they  were  undertaken  in  religious  obedience  to  the  commands  of  oracles, 
and  it  is  probable  that  impressions  of  this  sort  might  have  had  more  or  less 
influence;  but  it  is  probable,  also,  that  on  these  occasions  the  oracles  did  not 
speak  a  language  dissonant  from  the  views  and  purposes  of  the  state. 

Political  science  among  the  Greeks  seems  never  to  have  extended  to  the 
comprehension  of  a  system  which  should  be  adequate  to  the  government  of  a 
great  nation  upon  principles  of  liberty.  They  were  accustomed  only  to  the 
contemplation  of  small  republics,  and  were  led  to  consider  an  augmented 
population  as  incompatible  with  free  institutions.  The  desire  of  a  remedy  for 
this  supposed  evil,  and  the  wish  to  establish  marts  for  trade,  led  the  govern 
ments  often  to  undertake  the  establishment  of  colonies  as  an  affair  of  state 
expediency.  Colonization  and  commerce,  indeed,  would  naturally  become 
objects  of  interest  to  an  ingenious  and  enterprising  people,  inhabiting  a  terri 
tory  closely  circumscribed  in  its  limits,  and  in  no  small  part  mountainous  and 
sterile ;  while  the  islands  of  the  adjacent  seas,  and  the  promontories  and  coasts 
of  the  neighboring  continents,  by  their  mere  proximity,  strongly  solicited  the 
excited  spirit  of  emigration.  Such  was  this  proximity,  in  many  instances, 
thai  the  new  settlements  appeared  rather  to  be  the  mere  extension  of  popula 
tion  over  contiguous  territory,  than  the  establishment  of  distant  colonies.  In 
proportion  as  they  were  near  to  the  parent  state,  they  would  be  under  it* 


102 

authority,  und  partake  of  its  fortunes.  The  colony  at  Marseilles  might  per 
ceive  lightly,  or  not  at  all,  the  sway  of  Phocis ;  while  the  islands  in  the  JEgean 
Sea  could  hardly  attain  to  independenco  of  their  Athenian  origin.  Many  of 
these  establishments  took  place  at  an  early  age ;  and  if  there  were  defects  in 
the  governments  of  the  parent  states,  the  colonists  did  not  possess  philosophy 
or  experience  sufficient  to  correct  such  evils  in  their  own  institutions,  even  if 
they  had  not  been,  by  other  causes,  deprived  of  the  power.  An  immediate 
necessity,  connected  with  the  support  of  life,  was  the  main  and  direct  induce 
ment  to  these  undertakings,  and  there  could  hardly  exist  more  than  the  hope 
of  a  successful  imitation  of  institutions  with  which  they  were  already  ac 
quainted,  and  of  holding  an  equality  with  their  neighbors  in  the  course  of  im 
provement.  The  laws  and  customs,  both  political  and  municipal,  as  well  as 
the  religious  worship  of  the  parent  city,  were  transferred  to  the  colony ;  and 
the  parent  city  herself,  with  all  such  of  her  colonies  as  were  not  too  far  remote 
for  frequent  intercourse  and  common  sentiments,  would  appear  like  a  family 
of  cities,  more  or  less  dependent,  and  more  or  less  connected.  We  know  how 
imperfect  this  system  was,  as  a  system  of  general  politics,  and  what  scope  it 
gave  to  those  mutual  dissensions  and  conflicts  which  proved  so  fatal  to  Greece. 

But  it  is  more  pertinent  to  our  present  purpose  to  observe,  that  nothing  ex 
isted  in  the  character  of  Grecian  emigrations,  or  in  the  spirit  and  intelligence 
of  the  emigrants,  likely  to  give  a  new  and  important  direction  to  human  af 
fairs,  or  a  new  impulse  to  the  human  mind.  Their  motives  were  not  high 
enough,  their  views  were  not  sufficiently  large  and  prospective.  They  went 
not  forth,  like  our  ancestors,  to  erect  systems  of  more  perfect  civil  liberty,  or 
to  enjoy  a  higher  degree  of  religious  freedom.  Above  all,  there  was  nothing 
in  the  religion  and  learning  of  the  age,  that  could  either  inspire  high  pur 
poses,  or  give  the  ability  to  execute  them.  Whatever  restraints  on  civil  liber 
ty,  or  whatever  abuses  in  religious  worship,  existed  at  the  time  of  our  fathers' 
emigration,  yet  even  then  all  was  light  in  the  moral  and  mental  world,  in 
comparison  with  its  condition  in  most  periods  of  the  ancient  states.  The 
settlement  of  a  new  continent,  in  an  age  of  progressive  knowledge  and  im 
provement,  could  not  but  do  more  than  merely  enlarge  the  natural  boundaries 
of  the  habitable  world.  It  could  not  but  do  much  more  even  than  extend 
commerce  and  increase  wealth  among  the  human  race.  We  see  how  this 
event  has  acted,  how  it  must  have  acted,  and  wonder  only  why  it  did  not  act 
sooner,  in  the  production  of  moral  effects,  on  the  state  of  human  knowledge, 
the  general  tone  of  human  sentiments,  and  the  prospects  of  human  happiness. 
It  gave  to  civilized  man  not  only  a  new  continent  to  be  inhabited  and  culti 
vated,  and  new  seas  to  be  explored ;  but  it  it  gave  him  also  a  new  range  for 
his  thoughts,  new  objects  for  curiosity,  and  new  excitements  to  knowledge 
and  improvement. 

Roman  colonization  resembled,  far  less  than  that  of  the  Greeks,  the  origin 
al  settlements  of  this  country.  Power  and  dominion  were  the  objects  of 
Rome,  even  in  her  colonial  establishments.  Her  whole  exterior  aspect  was  for 
centuries  hostile  and  terrific.  She  grasped  at  dominion,  from  India  to  Britain, 
and  her  measures  of  colonization  partook  of  the  character  of  her  general 
system.  Her  policy  was  military,  because  her  objects  were  power,  ascendency 
and  subjugation.  Detachments  of  emigrants  from  Rome  incorporated  them 
selves  with,  and  governed,  the  original  inhabitants  of  conquered  countries. 
She  sent  citizens  where  she  had  first  sent  soldiers; her  law  followed  her  sword. 
Her  colonies  were  a  sort  of  military  establishment :  so  many  advanced  posts 
in  the  career  of  her  dominion.  A  governor  from  Rome  ruled  the  new  colony 


103 

with  absolute  sway,  and  often  with  unbounded  rapacity.  In  Scicily,  in  Gaul, 
in  Spain,  and  in  Asia,  the  power  of  Rome  prevailed,  not  nominally  only,  but 
really  and  effectually.  Those  who  immediately  exercised  it  were  Roman; 
the  tone  and  tendency  of  its  administration,  Roman.  Rome  herself  con 
tinued  to  be  the  heart  and  centre  of  the  great  system  which  she  had  estab 
lished.  Extortion  and  rapacity,  finding  a  wide  and  often  rich  field  of  action 
in  the  provinces,  looked  nevertheless  to  the  banks  of  the  Tiber,  as  the  scene  in 
which  their  ill-gotten  treasures  should  be  displayed ;  or,  if  a  spirit  of  more 
honest  acquisition  prevailed,  the  object,  nevertheless,  was  ultimate  enjoyment 
in  Rome  itself.  If  our  own  history  and  our  own  times  did  not  sufficiently  ex 
pose  the  inherent  and  incurable  evils  of  provincial  government,  we  might  see 
them  portrayed,  to  our  amazement,  in  the  desolated  and  ruined  provinces  of 
the  Roman  empire.  We  might  hear  them,  in  a  voice  that  terrifies  us,  in 
those  strains  of  complaint  and  accusation,  which  the  advocates  of  the  provin 
ces  poured  forth  in  the  Roman  Forum : — "  Quas  res  luxuries  in  flagitiis, 
crudelitas  in  suppliers,  avaritia  in  rapinis,  superbia  in  contumeliis,  efficerc 
potuisset,  eas  omnes  sese  pertulisse." 

As  was  to  be  expected,  the  Roman  provinces  partook  of  the  fortunes,  as 
well  as  of  the  sentiments  and  general  character,  of  the  seat  of  empire.  They 
lived  together  with  her,  they  flourished  with  her,  and  fell  with  her.  The 
branches  were  lopped  away  even  before  the  vast  and  venerable  trunk  itself 
fell  prostrate  to  the  earth.  Nothing  had  proceeded  from  her  which  could  sup 
port  itself,  and  bear  up  the  name  of  its  origin,  when  her  own  sustaining  ami 
should  be  enfeebled  or  withdrawn.  It  was  not  given  to  Rome  to  see,  either 
at  her  zenith  or  in  her  decline,  a  child  of  her  own,  distant,  indeed,  and  inde 
pendent  of  her  control,  yet  speaking  her  language  and  inheriting  her  blood, 
springing  forward  to  a  competition  with  her  own  power,  and  a  comparison 
with  her  own  great  renown.  She  saw  not  a  vast  region  of  the  earth  peopled 
from  her  stock,  full  of  states  and  political  communities,  improving  upon  the 
models  of  her  institutions,  and  breathing  in  fuller  measure  the  spirit  which 
she  had  breathed  in  the  best  periods  of  her  existence;  enjoying  and  extend 
ing  her  arts  and  her  literature;  rising  rapidly  from  political  childhood  to 
manly  strength  and  independence ;  her  offspring,  yet  now  her  equal ;  uncon 
nected  with  the  causes  which  might  affect  the  duration  of  her  own  power  arid 
greatness ;  of  common  origin,  but  not  linked  to  a  common  fate ;  giving  ample 
pledge,  that  her  name  should  not  be  forgotten;  that  her  language  should 
not  cease  to  be  used  among  men ;  that  whatsoever  she  had  done  for  human 
knowledge  and  human  happiness  should  be  treasured  up  and  preserved ;  that 
the  record  of  her  existence  and  her  achievements  should  not  be  obscured,  al 
though,  in  the  inscrutable  purposes  of  Providence,  it  might  be  her  destiny  to 
fall  from  opulence  and  splendor;  although  the  time  might  come  when  dark 
ness  should  settle  on  all  her  hills ;  when  foreign  or  domestic  violence  should 
overturn  her  altars  and  her  temples;  when  ignorance  and  despotism  should 
fill  the  places  where  Laws,  and  Arts,  and  Liberty  had  flourished ;  when  the 
feet  of  barbarism  should  trample  on  the  tombs  of  her  consuls,  and  the  walls 
of  her  senate-house  and  forum  echo  only  to  the  voice  of  savage  triumph, 
She  saw  not  this  glorious  vision,  to  inspire  and  fortify  her  against  the  possible 
decay  or  downfall  of  her  power.  Happy  are  they  who  in  our  day  may  be 
hold  it,  if  they  shall  contemplate  it  with  the  sentiments  which  it  ought  to 
inspire ! 

The  New  England  colonies  differ  quite  as  widely  from  the  Asiatic  establish 
ments  of  the  modem  European  nations,  as  from  the  models  of  the  ancient 


104 

.  states.  The  sole  objects  of  those  establishments  was  originally  trade ;  al 
though  we  have  seen,  in  one  of  them,  the  anomaly  of  a  mere  trading  com 
pany  attaining  a  political  character,  disbursing  revenues,  and  maintaining 
armies  and  fortresses,  until  it  has  extended  its  control  over  seventy  millions 
of  people.  Differing  from  these,  and  still  more  from  the  New  England  and 
North  American  colonies,  are  the  European  settlements  in  the  West  India 
Islands.  It  is  not  strange  that,  when  men's  minds  were  turned  to  the  settle 
ment  of  America,  different  objects  should  be  proposed  by  those  who  emi 
grated  to  the  different  regions  of  so  vast  a  country.  Climate,  soil  and  condi 
tion  were  not  all  equally  favorable  to  all  pursuits.  In  the  West  Indies,  the 
purpose  of  those  who  went  thither  was  to  engage  in  that  species  of  agricul 
ture,  suited  to  the  soil  and  climate,  which  seems  to  bear  more  resemblance  to 
commerce,  than  to  the  hard  and  plain  tillage  of  New  England.  The  great 
staples  of  these  countries,  being  partly  an  agricultural  and  partly  a  manufac 
tured  product,  and  not  being  of  the  necessaries  of  life,  become  the  object  of 
calculation,  with  respect  to  a  profitable  investment  of  capital,  like  any  other 
enterprise  of  trade  or  manufacture.  The  more  especially,  as,  requiring,  by 
necessity  or  habit,  slave  labor  for  their  production,  the  capital  necessary  to  car 
ry  on  the  work  of  this  production  is  very  considerable.  The  West  Indies  are 
resorted  to,  therefore,  rather  for  the  investment  of  capital,  than  for  the  purpose 
of  sustaining  life  by  personal  labor.  Such  as  possess  a  considerable  amount 
of  capital,  or  such  as  choose  to  adventure  in  commercial  speculations  without 
capital,  can  alone  be  fitted  to  be  emigrants  to  the  islands.  The  agriculture  of 
these  regions,  as  before  observed,  is  a  sort  of  commerce ;  and  it  is  a  species  of 
employment  in  which  labor  seems  to  form  an  inconsiderable  ingredient  in  the 
productive  causes,  since  the  portion  of  white  labor  is  exceedingly  small,  and 
slave  labor  is  rather  more  like  profit  on  stock  or  capital,  than  labor  properly 
so  called.  The  individual  who  undertakes  an  establishment  of  this  kind, 
takes  into  the  account  the  cost  of  the  necessary  number  of  slaves,  in  the  same 
manner  as  he  calculates  the  cost  of  the  land.  The  uncertainty,  too,  of  this 
species  of  employment,  affords  another  ground  of  resemblance  to  commerce. 
Although  gainful  on  the  whole,  and  in  a  series  of  years,  it  is  often  very  dis 
astrous  for  a  single  year,  and,  as  the  capital  is  not  readily  invested  in  other 
pursuits,  bad  crops  or  bad  markets  not  only  affect  the  profits,  but  the  capital 
itself.  Hence  the  sudden  depressions  which  take  place  in  the  value  of  such 
estates. 

But  the  great  and  leading  observation,  relative  to  these  establishments,  re 
mains  to  be  made.  It  is,  that  the  owners  ef  the  soil  and  of  the  capital  sel 
dom  consider  themselves  at  home  in  the  colony.  A  very  great  portion  of  the 
soil  itself  is  usually  owned  in  the  mother  country ;  a  still  greater  is  mortgaged 
for  capital  obtained  there;  and,  in  general,  those  who  are  to  derive  an  inter 
est  from  the  products  look  to  the  parent  country  as  the  place  for  enjoyment 
of  their  wealth.  The  population  is  therefore  constantly  fluctuating.  Nobody 
comes  but  to  return.  A  constant  succession  of  owners,  agents  and  factors 
takes  place.  Whatsoever  the  soil,  forced  by  the  unmitigated  toil  of  slavery, 
can  yield,  is  sent  home  to  defray  rents,  and  interest,  and  agencies,  or  to  give 
the  means  of  living  in  a  better  society.  In  such  a  state,  it  is  evident  that  no 
spirit  of  permanent  improvement  is  likely  to  spring  up.  Profits  will  not  be 
invested  with  a  distant  view  of  benefiting  posterity.  Roads  and  canals  will 
hardly  be  built ;  schools  will  not  be  founded ;  colleges  will  not  be  endowed. 
There  will  be  few  fixtures  in  society  ,  no  principles  of  utility  or  of  elegance, 
planted  now,  with  the  hope  of  being  developed  and  expanded  hereafter. 


105 

Profit,  immediate  profit,  must  be  the  principal  active  spring  in  the  social  sys 
tem.  There  may  be  many  particular  exceptions  to  these  general  remarks,  but 
the  outline  of  the  whole  is  such  as  is  here  drawn. 

Another  most  important  consequence 'of  such  a  state  of  things  is,  that  no 
idea  of  independence  of  the  parent  country  is  likely  to  arise ;  unless,  indeed,  it 
should  spring  up  in  a  form  that  would  threaten  universal  desolation.     The 
inhabitants  have  no  strong  attachment  to  the  place  which  they  inhabit.     The 
hope  of  a  great  portion  of  them  is  to  leave  it ;  and  their  great  desire,  to  leave 
it  soon.     However  useful  they  may  be  to  the  parent  state,  how  much  soever 
they  may  add  to  the  conveniencies  and  luxuries  of  life,  these  colonies  are  not 
favored  spots  for  the  expansion  of  the  human  mind,  for  the  progress  of  per 
manent  improvement^  or  for  sowing  the  seeds  of  future  independent  empire. 
Different,  indeed,  most  widely  different,  from  all  these  instances  of  emigra 
tion  and  plantation,  were  the  condition,  the  purposes,  and  the  prospects  of  our 
fathers,  when  they  established  their  infant  colony  upon  this  spot.     They  came 
hither  from  a  land  to  which  they  were  never  to  return.     Hither  they  had 
brought,  and  here  they  were  to  fix  their  hopes,  their  attachments,  and  their 
objects  in  life.     Some  natural  tears  they  shed,  as  they  left  the  pleasant  abodes 
of  their  fathers,  and  some  emotions  they  suppressed,  when  the  wh.te  cliffs  of 
their  native  country,  now  seen  for  the  last  time,  grew  dim  to  their  sight.    They 
were  acting  however,  on  a  resolution  not  to  be  daunted.     With  whatever 
stifled  regrets,  with  whatever  occasional  hesitation,  with  whatever  appalling 
apprehensions,  which  might  sometimes  arise  with  force  to  shake  the  firmest 
purpose,  they  had  yet  committed  themselves  to  Heaven  and  the  elements ;  and 
a  thousand  leagues  of  water  soon  interposed  to  separate  them  for  ever  from 
the  region  which  gave  them  birth.     A  new  existence  awaited  them  here ;  and 
when  they  saw  these  shores,  rough,  cold,  barbarous,  and  barren,  as  then  they 
were,  they  beheld  their  country.    That  mixed  and  strong  feeling,  which  we  call 
love  of  country,  and  which  is,  in  general,  never  extinguished  in  the  heart  of 
man,  grasped  and  embraced  its  proper  object  here.  Whatever  constitutes  coun 
try,  except  the  earth  and  the  sun,  all  the  moral  causes  of  affection  and  attach 
ment  which  operate  upon  the  heart,  they  had  brought  with  them  to  their  new 
abode.     Here  were  now  their  families  and  friends,  their  homes,  and  their 
property.     Before  they  reached  the  shore,  they  had  established  the  elements 
of  a  social  system,  and  at  a  much  earlier  period  had  settled  their  forms  of 
religious  worship.     At  the  moment  of  their  landing,  therefore,  they  possessed 
institutions  of   government,  and   institutions  of  religion;   and   friends  and 
families,  and  social  and  religious  institutions,  framed  by  consent,  founded  on 
choice  and  preference,  how  nearly  do  these  fill  up  our  whole  idea  of  country  ! 
The  morning  that  beamed  on  the  first  night  of  their  repose  saw  the  Pilgrims 
already  at  liome  in  their  country.     There  were  political  institutions,  and  civil 
liberty,  and  religious  worship.     Poetry  has  fancied  nothing,  in  the  wanderings 
of  heroes,  so  distinct  and  characteristic.     Here  was  man,  indeed,  unprotected, 
and  unprovided  for,  on  the  shore  of  a  rude  and  fearful  wilderness ;  but  it  was 
politic,  intelligent,  and  educated  man.     Every  thing  was  civilized  but  the 
physical  world.     Institutions,  containing  in  substance  all  that  ages  had  done 
for  human  government,  were  organized  in  a  forest.     Cultivated  mind  was  to 
act  on  uncultivated  nature ;  and,  more  than  all,  a  government  and  a  country 
were  to  commence,  with  the  very  first  foundations  laid  under  the  divine  right 
of  the  Christian  religion.     Happy  auspices  of  a  happy  futurity !   Who  would 
wish  that  his  country's  existence  had  otherwise  begun  ?     Who  would  desire 
the  power  of  going  back   to  the  ages  of  fable  ?     Who  would  wish  for  an 


106 

origin  obscured  in  the  darkness  of  antiquity  ?  Who  would  wish  for  other 
emblazoning  of  his  country's  heraldry,  or  other  ornaments  of  her  genealogy, 
than  to  be  able  to  say,  that  her  first  existence  was  with  intelligence,  her  first 
breath  the  inspiration  of  liberty,  her  first  principle  the  truth  of  divine 
aelioion  ? 

Local  attachments  and  sympathies  would  ere  long  spring  up  in  the  breasts 
of  our  ancestors,  endearing  to  them  the  place  of  their  refuge.  Whatever 
natural  objects  are  associated  with  interesting  scenes  and  high  efforts  obtain  a 
hold  on  human  feeling,  and  demand  from  the  heart  a  sort  of  recognition  and 
regard.  This  Rock  soon  became  hallowed  in  the  esteem  of  the  Pilgrims,  and 
these  hills  grateful  to  their  sight.  Neither  they  nor  their  children  were  again 
to  till  the  soil  of  England,  nor  again  to  traverse  the  seas  which  surround  her. 
But  here  was  a  new  sea,  now  open  to  their  enterprise,  and  a  new  soil,  which 
had  not  failed  to  respond  gratefully  to  their  laborious  industry,  and  which 
was  already  assuming  a  robe  of  verdure.  Hardly  had  they  provided  shelter 
for  the  living,  ere  they  were  summoned  to  erect  sepulchres  for  the  dead.  The 
ground  had  become  sacred,  by  inclosing  the  remains  of  some  of  their  com 
panions  and  connections.  A  parent,  a  child,  a  husband,  or  a  wife,  had  gone 
the  way  of  all  flesh,  and  mingled  with  the  dust  of  New  England.  We  natu 
rally  look  with  strong  emotions  to  the  spot,  though  it  be  a  wilderness,  where 
the  ashes  of  those  we  have  loved  repose.  Where  the  heart  has  laid  down 
what  it  loved  most,  there  it  is  desirous  of  laying  itself  down.  No  sculptured 
marble,  no  enduring  monument,  no  honorable  inscription,  no  ever-burning 
taper  that  would  drive  away  the  darkness  of  the  tomb,  can  soften  our  sense  of 
the  reality  of  death,  and  hallow  to  our  feelings  the  ground  which  is  to  cover 
us,  like  the  consciousness  that  we  shall  sleep,  dust  to  dust,  with  the  objects  of 
our  affections. 

In  a  short  time  other  causes  sprung  up  to  bind  the  Pilgrims  with  new  cords 
to  their  chosen  land.  Children  were  born,  and  the  hopes  of  future  genera 
tions  arose,  in  the  spot  of  their  new  habitation.  The  second  generation  found 
this  the  land  of  their  nativity,  and  saw  that  they  were  bound  to  its  fortunes. 
They  beheld  their  fathers'  graves  around  them,  and  while  they  read  the 
memorials  of  their  toils  and  labors,  they  rejoiced  in  the  inheritance  which  they 
found  bequeathed  to  them. 

Under  the  influence  of  these  causes,  it  was  to  be  expected  that  an  interest 
and  a  feeling  should  arise  here,  entirely  different  from  the  interest  and  feeling 
of  mere  Englishmen ;  and  all  the  subsequent  history  of  the  colonies  proves 
this  to  have  actually  and  gradually  taken  place.  With  a  general  acknowledg 
ment  of  the  supremacy  of  the  British  crown,  there  was,  from  the  first,  a  re 
pugnance  to  an  entire  submission  to  the  control  of  British  legislation.  The 
colonies  stood  upon  their  charters,  which,  as  they  contended,  exempted  them 
from  the  ordinary  power  of  the  British  Parliament,  and  authorized  them  to 
conduct  their  own  concerns  by  their  own  counsels.  They  utterly  resisted  the 
notion  that  they  were  to  be  ruled  by  the  mere  authority  of  the  government 
at  home,  and  would  not  endure  even  that  their  own  charter  governments 
should  be  established  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  It  was  not  a  con 
trolling  or  protecting  board  in  England,  but  a  government  of  their  own,  and 
existing  immediately  within  their  limits,  which  could  satisfy  their  wishes. 
It  was  easy  to  foresee,  what  we  know  also  to  have  happened,  that  the  first 
great  cause  of  collision  and  jealousy  would  be,  under  the  notion  of  political 
economy  then  and  still  prevalent  in  Europe,  an  attempt  on  the  part  of  the 
mother  country  to  monopolize  the  trade  of  the  colonjee. (  Whoever  has  looked 

? 


107 

deeply  into  tne  causes  which  produced  our  Revolution,  has  found,  if  I  mistake 
not,  the  original  principal  far  back  in  this  claim,  on  the  part  of  England,  to 
monopolize  our  trade,  and  a  continued  effort  on  the  part  of  the  colonies  to 
rvsist  or  evade  that  monopoly ;  if,  indeed,'  it  be  not  still  more  just  and  philoso 
phical  to  go  farther  back,  and  to  consider  it  decided,  that  an  independent 
g-overament  must  arise  here,  the  moment  it  was  ascertained  that  an  English 
eolony,  such  as  landed  in  this  place,  could  sustain  itself  against  the  dangers 
which  surrounded  it,  and,  with  other  similar  establishments,  overspread  the 
rand  with  an  English  population.  Accidental  causes  retarded  at  times,  and 
it  times  accelerated  the  progress  of  the  controversy.  The  colonies  wanted 
•strength  and  time  to  give  it  to  them.  They  required  measures  of  strong  and 
palpable  injustice,  on  the  part  of  the  mother  country,  to  justify  resistance ;  the 
early  part  of  the  late  king's  reign  furnished  them.  They  needed  spirits  of 
high  order,  of  great  daring,  of  long  foresight,  and  of  commanding  power,  to 
seize  the  favoring  occasion  to  strike  a  blow,  which  should  sever,  for  all  time, 
the  tie  of  colonial  dependence ;  and  these  spirits  were  found,  in  all  the  extent 
which  that  or  any  crisis  could  demand,  in  Otis,  Adams,  Hancock,  and  the 
other  immediate  authors  of  our  independence. 

Still,  it  is  true  that,  for  a  century,  causes  had  been  in  operation  tending  to 
prepare  things  for  this  great  result.  In  the  year  1660,  the  English  Act  of 
Navigation  was  passed;  the  first  and  grand  object  of  which  seems  to  have 
been  to  secure  to  England  the  whole  trade  with  her  plantations.  It  was  pro 
vided  by  that  act  that  none  but  English  ships  should  transport  American 
produce  over  the  ocean,  and  that  the  principal  articles  of  that  produce  should 
be  allowed  to  be  sold  only  in  the  markets  of  the  mother  country.  Three 
years  afterwards  another  law  was  passed,  which  enacted  that  such  commodi 
ties  as  the  colonies  might  wish  to  purchase  should  be  bought  only  in  the 
markets  of  the  mother  country.  Severe  rules  were  prescribed  to  enforce  the 
provisions  of  these  laws,  and  heavy  penalties  imposed  on  all  who  should 
violate  them.  In  the  subsequent  years  of  the  same  reign,  other  statutes  were 
enacted  to  re-enforce  tiiese  statutes,  and  other  rules  prescribed  to  secure  a  com 
pliance  with  these  lules.  In  this  manner  was  the  trade  to  and  from  the 
colonies  restricted,  almost  to  the  exclusive  advantage  of  the  parent  country. 
But  laws,  which  rendered  the  interest  of  a  whole  people  subordinate  to  that 
of  another  people,  were  not  likely  to  execute  themselves ;  nor  was  it  easy  to 
find  many  on  the  spot>  wlio  could  be  depended  upon  for  carrying  them  into 
execution.  In  fact,  these  laws  were  more  or  less  evaded  or  resisted,  in  all  the 
colonies.  To  enforce  them  was  the  constant  endeavor  of  the  government  at 
home ;  to  prevent  or  elude  their  operation,  the  perpetual  object  here.  "  The 
laws  of  navigation,"  says  a  living  British  writer,  "  were  nowhere  so  openly 
disobeyed  and  contemned  as  in  New  England."  "  The  people  of  Massachu 
setts  Bay,"  he  adds,  "  were  from  the  first  disposed  to  act  as  if  independent 
of  the  mother  country ;  and  having  a  governor  and  magistrates  of  their  own 
choice,  it  was  difficult  to  enforce  any  regulation  which  came  from  the  English 
Parliament,  adverse  to  their  interests."  To  provide  more  effectually  for  the 
execution  of  these  laws,  we  kno^v  that  courts  of  admiralty  were  afterwards 
established  by  the  crown,  with  power  to  try  revenue  causes,  as  questions  of 
admiralty,  upon  the  construction  given  by  the  crown  lawyers  to  an  act  of  Par 
liament;  a  great  departure  from  the  ordinary  principles  of  English  jurispru 
dence,  but  which  has  been  maintained,  nevertheless,  by  the  force  of  habit 
and  precedent,  and  is  adopted  in  our  own  existing  forms  of  government. 

"  There  lie,"  says  another  English  writer,  whose  connection  with  the  Board 


108 

of  Trade  has  enabled  him  to  ascertain  many  facts  connected  with  colonial 
history,  "  There  lie  among  the  documents  in  the  Board  of  Trade  and  State- 
paper  office,  the  most  satisfactory  proofs,  from  the  epoch  of  the  English 
Revolution  in  1688,  throughout  every  reign,  and  during  every  administration, 
of  the  settled  purpose  of  the  colonies  to  acquire  direct  independence  and 
positive  sovereignty."  Perhaps  this  may  "be  stated  somewhat  too  strongly; 
but  it  cannot  be  denied  that,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  establishments  here, 
and  from  the  general  character  of  the  measures  respecting  their  concerns  early 
ac^ppted  and  steadily  pursued  by  the  English  government,  a  division  of  the 
empire  was  the  natural  and  necessary  result  to  which  every  thing  tended. 

I  have  dwelt  on  this  topic,  because  it  seems  to  me  that  the  peculiar  original 
character  of  the  New  England  colonies,  and  certain  causes  coeval  with  their 
existence,  have  had  a  strong  and  decided  influence  on  all  their  subsequent 
history,  and  especially  on  the  great  event  of  the  Revolution.  Whoever  would 
write  our  history,  and  would  understand  and  explain  early  transactions,  should 
comprehend  the  nature  and  force  of  the  feeling  which  I  have  endeavored  to 
describe.  As  a  son,  leaving  the  house  of  his  father  for  his  own,  finds,  by  the 
order  of  nature,  and  the  very  law  of  his  being,  nearer  and  dearer  objects 
around  which  his  affections  circle,  while  his  attachment  to  the  parental  roof 
becomes  moderated,  by  degrees,  to  a  composed  regard  and  an  affectionate  re 
membrance;  so  our  ancestors,  leaving  their  native  land,  not  without  some 
violence  to  the  feelings  of  nature  and  affection,  yet,  in  time,  found  here  a  new 
circle  of  engagements,  interests  and  affections;  a  feeling,  which  more  and 
more  encroached  upon  the  old,  till  an  undivided  sentiment,  that  this  was  their 
country,  occupied  the  heart ;  and  patriotism,  shutting  out  from  its  embraces 
the  parent  realm,  became  local  to  America. 

Some  retrospect  of  the  century  which  has  now  elapsed  is  among  the  duties 
of  the  occasion.  It  must,  however,  necessarily  be  imperfect,  to  be  compressed 
within  the  limits  of  a  single  discourse.  I  shall  content  myself,  therefore,  with 
taking  notice  of  a  few  of  the  leading  and  most  important  occurrences  Avhich 
have  distinguished  the  period. 

When  the  first  century  closed,  the  progress  of  the  country  appeared  to  have 
been  considerable;  notwithstanding  that,  in  comparison  with  its  subsequent 
advancement,  it  now  seems  otherwise.  A  broad  and  lasting  foundation  had 
been  laid ;  excellent  institutions  had  been  established ;  many  of  the  prejudices 
of  former  times  had  been  removed ;  a  more  liberal  and  catholic  spirit  on  sub 
jects  of  religious  concern  had  begun  to  extend  itself,  and  many  things  con 
spired  to  give  promise  of  increasing  future  prosperity.  Great  men  had  arisen 
in  public  life,  and  the  liberal  professions.  The  Mathers,  father  and  son,  were 
then  sinking  low  in  the  western  horizon ;  Leverett,  the  learned,  the  accom 
plished,  the  excellent  Leverett,  was  about  to  withdraw  his  brilliant  and  useful 
light.  In  Pemberton  great  hopes  had  been  suddenly  extinguished,  but 
Prince  and  Colman  were  in  our  sky ;  and  along  the  east  had  begun  to  flash 
the  crepuscular  light  of  a  great  luminary  which  was  about  to  appear,  and 
which  was  to  stamp  the  age  with  his  own  name,  as  the  age  of  Franklin. 

The  bloody  Indian  wars,  which  harrassed  the  people  for  a  part  of  the  first 
century;  the  restrictions  on  the  trade  of  the  colonies,  added  to  the  discourage 
ments  inherently  belonging  to  all  forms  of  colonial  government;  the  distance 
from  Europe,  and  the  sma\l  hope  of  immediate  profit  to  adventurers,  are 
among  the  causes  which  had  contributed  to  retard  the  progress  of  population. 
Perhaps  it  may  be  added,  also,  that  during  the  period  of  the  civil  wars  in 
England,  and  the  reign  of  Cromwell,  many  persons,  whose  religious  opinions 


109 

and  religious  temper  might,  under  other  circumstances,  have  induced  them  to 
join  the  New  England  colonists,  found  reasons  to  remain  in  England;  either 
on  account  of  active  occupation  in  the  scenes  which  were  passing,  or  of  an 
anticipation  of  the  enjoyment,  in  their  o-wn  country,  of  a  form  of  government, 
eivil  and  religious,  accommodated  to  their  views  and  principles.  The  violent 
measures,  too,  pursued  against  the  colonies  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second, 
Che  mockery  of  a  trial,  and  the  forfeiture  of  the  charters,  were  serious  evils. 
And  during  the  open  violence  of  the  short  reign  of  James  the  Second,  and 
the  tyranny  of  Andros,  as  the  venerable  historian  of  Connecticut  observes, 
"  All  the  motives  to  great  actions,  to  industry,  economy,  enterprise,  wealth, 
and  population,  were  in  a  manner  annihilated.  A  general  inactivity  and  Ian- 
guishment  pervaded  the  public  body.  Liberty,  property,  and  every  thing 
which  ought  to  be  dear  to  men,  every  day  grew  more  and  more  insecure." 

With  the  Revolution  in  England,  a  better  prospect  had  opened  on  this 
country,  as  well  as  on  that.  The  joy  had  been  as  great  at  that  event,  and 
far  more  universal,  in  New  England  than  in  Old  England.  A  new  charter 
had  been  granted  to  Massachusetts,  which,  although  it  did  not  confirm  to  her 
inhabitants  all  their  former  privileges,  yet  relieved  them  from  great  evils  and 
embarrassments,  and  promised  future  security.  More  than  all,  perhaps,  the 
Revolution  in  England  had  done  good  to  the  general  cause  of  liberty  and 
justice.  A  blow  had  been  struck  in  favor  of  the  rights  and  liberties,  not  of 
England  alone,  but  of  descendants  and  kinsmen  of  England  all  over  the  world. 
Great  political  truths  had  been  established.  The  champions  of  liberty  had 
been  successful  in  a  fearful  and  perilous  conflict.  Somers,  and  Cavendish,  and 
Jeky],  and  Howard,  had  triumphed  in  one  of  the  most  noble  causes  ever  un 
dertaken  by  men.  A  revolution  had  been  made  upon  principle.  A  monarch 
had  been  dethroned  for  violating  the  original  compact  between  king  and  peo 
ple.  The  rights  of  the  people  to  partake  in  the  government,  and  to  limit 
the  monarch  by  fundamental  rules  of  government,  had  been  maintained ;  and 
however  unjust  the  government  of  England  might  afterwards  be  towards 
other  governments  or  towards  her  colonies,  she  had  ceased  to  be  governed  her 
self  by  the  arbitrary  maxims  of  the  Stuarts. 

New  England  had  submitted  to  the  violence  of  James  the  Second  not  long 
er  than  Old  England.  Not  only  was  it  reserved  to  Massachusetts,  that  on  her 
soil  should  be  acted  the  first  scene  of  that  great  revolutionary  drama,  which 
was  to  take  place  near  a  century  afterwards,  but  the  English  Revolution  itself, 
as  far  as  the  colonies  were  concerned,  commenced  in  Boston.  The  seizure 
and  imprisonment  of  Andros,  in  April,  1689,  were  acts  of  direct  and  forcible 
resistance  to  the  authority  of  James  the  Second.  The  pulse  of  liberty  beat 
as  high  in  the  extremities  as  at  the  heart.  The  vigorous  feeling  of  the  colony 
burst  out  before  it  was  known  how  the  parent  country  would  finally  conduct 
herself.  The  king's  representative,  Sir  Edmund  Andros,  was  a  prisoner  in 
the  castle  at  Boston,  before  it  was  or  could  be  known  that  the  king  himself 
had  ceased  to  exercise  his  full  dominion  on  the  English  throne. 

Before  it  was  known  here,  whether  the  invasion  of  the  Prince  of  Orange 
would  or  could  prove  successful ;  as  soon  only  as  it  was  known  that  it  had 
been  undertaken,  the  people  of  Massachusetts,  at  the  imminent  hazards  of 
their  lives  and  fortunes,  had  accomplished  the  revolution  as  for  as  respected 
themselves.  It  is  probable,  that,  reasoning  on  general  principles,  and  the 
known  attachment  of  the  English  people  to  their  constitution  and  liberties, 
and  their  deep  and  fixed  dislike  of  the  king's  religion  and  politics,  the  people 
of  New  England  expected  a  catastrophe  fatal  to  the  power  of  the  reigning 


110 

Prince.  Yet,  it  was  not  either  certain  enough,  or  near  enough,  to  come  to 
their  aid  against  the  authority  of  the  crown,  in  that  crisis  which  had  arrived, 
and  in  which  they  trusted  to  put  themselves,  relying  on  God,  and  their  own 
courage.  There  were  spirits  in  Massachusetts,  congenial  with  the  spirits  of  the 
distinguished  friends  of  the  revolution  in  England.  There  were  these,  who 
were  fit  to  associate  with  the  boldest  asserters  of  civil  liberty ;  and  Mather 
himself,  then  in  England,  was  not  unworthy  to  be  ranked  with  those  sons  of 
the  church,  whose  firmness  and  spirit  in  resisting  kingly  encroachment  in  re 
ligion,  entitled  them  to  the  gratitude  of  their  own  and  succeeding  ages. 

The  second  century  opened  upon  New  England  under  circumstances  which 
evinced  that  much  had  already  been  accomplished,  and  that  still  better  pros 
pects,  and  brighter  hopes,  were  before  her.  She  had  laid,  deep  and  strong, 
the  foundations  of  her  society.  Her  religious  principles  were  firm,  and  her 
moral  habits  exemplary.  Her  public  schools  had  begun  to  diffuse  widely  the 
elements  of  knowledge ;  and  the  College,  under  the  excellent  and  acceptable 
administration  of  Leverett,  had  been  raised  to  a  high  degree  of  credit  and 
usefulness. 

The  commercial  character  of  the  country,  notwithstanding  all  discourage 
ment,  had  begun  to  display  itself,  aodfive  hundred  vessels,  then  belonging  to 
Massachusetts,  placed  her  in  relation  to  commerce,  thus  early,  at  the  head  of 
the  colonies.  An  author  who  wrote  very  near  the  close  of  the  first  century 
says;  "New  England  is  almost  deserving  that  noble  name,  so  mightily  hath 
it  increased ;  and  from  a  small  settlement,  at  first,  is  now  become  a  very  popu 
lous  and  flourishing  government.  The  capital  city,  Boston,  is  a  place  of 
great  wealth  and  trade;  and  by  much  the  largest  of  any  in  the  English  em 
pire  of  America ;  and  not  exceeded  but  by  few  cities,  perhaps  two  or  three, 
in  all  the  American  world." 

But,  if  our  ancestors  at  the  close  of  the  first  century,  could  look  back  with 
joy,  and  even  admiration  at  the  progress  of  the  country ;  what  emotions  must 
we  not  feel,  when,  from  the  point  in  which  we  stand,  we  look  back  and  run 
along  the  events  of  the  century  which  has  now  closed  ?  The  country,  which 
then,  as  we  have  seen  was  thought  deserving  of  a  "  noble  name;"  which  then 
had  "  mightily  increased,"  and  become  "  very  populous ;"  what  was  it,  in  com 
parison  with  what  our  eyes  behold  it  ?  At  that  period,  a  very  great  propor 
tion  of  its  inhabitants  lived  in  the  eastern  section  of  Massachusetts  proper,  and 
in  this  colony.  In  Connecticut,  there  were  towns  along  the  coast,  some  of 
them  respectable,  but  in  the  interior,  all  was  a  wilderness  beyond  Hartford. — 
On  Connecticut  river,  settlements  had  proceeded  as  far  up  as  Deerfield,  and 
Fort  Dummer  had  been  built,  near  where  is  now  the  south  line  of  New  Hamp 
shire.  In  New  Hampshire,  no  settlement  was  then  begun  thirty  miles  from  the 
mouth  of  Piscataqua  river,  and,  in  what  is  now  Maine,  the  inhabitants  were 
confined  to  the  coast.  The  aggregate  of  the  whole  population  of  New  Eng 
land  did  not  exceed  one  hundred  and  sixty  thousand.  Its  present  amount  is 
probably  one  million  seven  hundred  thousand.  Instead  of  being  confined  to 
its  former  limits,  her  population  has  rolled  backward  and  filled  up  the  spaces 
included  within  her  actual  local  boundaries.  Not  this  only,  but  it  has  over 
flowed  those  boundaries,  and  the  waves  of  emigration  have  pressed  further  and 
further  toward  the  west.  The  Alleghany  has  not  checked  it ;  the  banks  of 
the  Ohio  have  been  covered  with  it.  New  England  farms,  houses,  villages, 
and  churches  spread  over,  and  adorn  the  immense  extent  from  the  Ohio  to 
Lake  Erie;  and  stretch  along,  from  the  Alleghany  onwards,  beyond  the 
Miamis,  and  toward  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony.  Two  thousand  miles  west- 


Ill 

ward  from  the  rock  where  their  fathers  landed,  may  now  be  found  the  sons  of 
the  Pilgrims;  cultivating  smiling  fields,  rearing  towns  and  village?,  and  cher 
ishing,  we  trust,  the  patrimonial  blessings  of  wise  institutions,  of  liberty  and 
religion.  The  world  has  seen  nothing  'like  this.  Regions  large  enough  to 
be  empires,  and  which,  half  a  century  ago,  were  known  only  as  remote  and 
unexplored  wildernesses,  are  now  teeming  with  population,  and  prosperous  in 
all  the  great  concerns  of  life;  in  good  governments,  the  means  of  subsistence, 
and  social  happiness,  It  may  be  safely  asserted,  that  there  are  now  more  than 
a  million  of  people,  descendants  of  New  England  ancestry,  living  free  and 
happy,  in  regions,  which  hardily  sixty  years  ago  were  tracts  of  impenetrated 
forest.  Nor  do  rivers,  or  mountains,  or  seas  resist  the  progress  of  industry  and 
enterprise.  Ere  long,  the  sons  of  the  Pilgrims  will  be  on  the  shores  of  the 
Pacific,  The  imagination  hardily  keeps  up  with  the  progress  of  population, 
improvement,  and  civilization. 

It  is  now.  five  and  forty  years,  since  the  growth  and  rising  glory  of  Ameri 
ca  were  portrayed  in  the  English  parliament,  with  inimitable  beauty,  by  the 
most  consummate  orator  of  modern  times.  Going  back  somewhat  more  than 
half  a  century,  and  describing  our  progress  as  foreseen  from  that  point,  by  his 
amiable  friend  Lord  Bathurst,  then  living,  he  spoke  of  the  wonderful  progress 
which  America  had  made  during  the  period  of  a  single  human  life.  There 
is  no  American  heart,  I  imagine,  that  does  not  glow,  both  with  conscious 
patriotic  pride,  and  admiration  for  one  of  the  happiest  efforts  of  eloquence,  so 
often  as  the  vision,  of  "  that  little  speck,  scarce  visible  in  the  mass  of  national 
interest,  a  small  seminal  principle,  rather  than  a  formed  body,"  and  the  pro 
gress  of  its  astonishing  developement  and  growth,  are  recalled  to  the  recollec 
tion.  But  a  stronger  feeling  might  be  produced,  if  we  were  able  to  take  up 
this  prophetic  description  where  he  left  it ;  and  placing  ourselves  at  the  point 
of  time  in  which  he  was  speaking,  to  set  forth  with  equal  felicity  the  subse 
quent  progress  of  the  country.  There  is  yet  among  the  living  a  most  distin 
guished  and  venerable  name,  a  descendant  of  the  Pilgrims;  one  who  has  been 
attended  through  life  by  a  great  and  fortunate  genius ;  a  man  illustrious  by 
his  own  great  merits,  and  favored  of  Heaven  in  the  long  continuation  of  his 
years.  The  time  when  the  English  orator  was  thus  speaking  of  America, 
preceded,  by  a  few  days,  the  actual  opening  of  the  revolutionary  drama  at 
Lexington.  He  to  whom  I  have  alluded,  then  at  the  age  of  forty,  was  among 
the  most  zealous  and  able  defenders  of  the  violated  rights  of  his  country. — 
He  seemed  already  to  have  filled  a  full  measure  of  public  service,  and  attain 
ed  an  honorable  fame.  The  moment  was  full  of  difficulty  and  danger,  and 
big  with  events  of  immeasurable  importance.  The  country  was  on  the  very 
brink  of  a  civil  war,  of  which  no  man  could  foretell  the  duration  or  the  re 
sult.  Something  more  than  a  courageous  hope,  or  characteristic  ardor,  would 
have  been  necessary  to  impress  the  glorious  prospect  on  his  belief,  if,  at  that 
moment,  before  the  sound  of  the  first  shock  of  actual"  war  had  reached  his 
ears,  some  attendant  spirit  had  opened  to  him  the  vision  of  the  future ;  if  it 
had  said  to  him,  '-The  blow  is  struck,  and  America  is  severed  from  England 
forever!"  if  it  had  informed  him,  that  he  himself,  the  next  annual  revolution 
of  the  sun,  should  put  his  own  hand  to  the  great  instrument  of  Independence, 
and  write  his  name  where  all  nations  should  behold  it,  and  all  time  should  not 
efface  it;  that  ere  long  he  himself  should  maintain  the  interest  and  represent 
the  sovereignty  of  his  new-born  country,  in  the  proudest  courts  of  Europe; 
that  he  should  one  day  exercise  her  supreme  magistracy;  that  he  should  yet 
live  to  behold  ten  millions  of  fellow  citizens  paying  him  the  homage  of  their 


112 

deepest  gratitude  and  kindest  affections;  that  he  should  see  distinguished  tal 
ent  and  high  public  trust  resting  where  his  name  rested ;  and  that  he  should 
even  see  with  his  own  unclouded  eyes,  the  close  of  the  second  century  of  New 
England,  who  had  begun  life  almost  with  its  commencement,  and  lived  through 
nearly  half  the  whole  history  of  his  country ;  and  that  on  the  morning  of  this 
auspicious  day,  he  should  be  found  in  the  political  councils  of  his  native  state, 
revising  by  the  light  of  experience,  that  system  of  government,  which  forty 
years  before  he  had  assisted  to  frame  and  establish ;  and  great  and  happy  as 
be  should  then  behold  his  country,  there  should  be  nothing  in  prospect  to 
cloud  the  scene,  nothing  to  check  the  ardor  of  that  confident  and  patriotic 
hope,  which  should  glow  in  his  bosom  to  the  end  of  his  long  protracted  and 
happy  life. 

It  would  far  exceed  the  limits  of  this  discourse,  even  to  mention  the  princi 
pal  events  even  in  the  civil  and  political  history  of  New  England  during  the 
century ;  the  more  so,  as  for  the  last  half  of  the  period,  that  history  has  been 
most  happily,  closely  interwoven  with  the  general  history  of  the  United  States. 
New  England  bore  an  honorable  part  in  the  wars  which  took  'place  between 
England  and  France.  The  capture  of  Louisburg  gave  her  a  character  for 
military  achievement ;  and  in  the  war  which  terminated  with  the  peace  of 
1763,  her  exertions  on  the  frontiers  were  of  most  essential  service  as  well  to 
the  mother  country  as  to  all  the  colonies. 

In  New  England  the  war  of  the  revolution  commenced.  I  address  those 
who  remember  the  memorable  19th  of  April,  1775;  who  shortly  after  saw 
the  burning  spires  of  Charlestown ;  who  beheld  the  deeds  of  Prescott,  and 
heard  the  voice  of  Putnam,  amidst  the  storm  of  war,  and  saw  the  generous 
Warren  fall,  the  first  distinguished  victim  in  the  cause  of  liberty.  It  would 
be  superfluous  to  say,  that  no  portion  of  the  country  did  more  than  the  states 
of  New  England,  to  bring  the  revolutionary  struggle  to  a  successful  issue. — 
It  is  scarcely  less  to  her  credit,  that  she  saw  eany  the  necessity  of  a  closer 
union  of  the  states,  and  gave  an  efficient  and  indispensable  aid  to  the  estab 
lishment  and  organization  of  the  federal  government. 

Perhaps  we  might  safely  say,  that  a  new  spirit,  and  a  new  excitement  be 
gan  to  exist  here,  about  the  middle  of  the  last  century.  To  whatever  causes 
it  may  be  imputed,  there  seems  then  to  have  commenced  a  more  rapid  im 
provement.  The  colonies  had  attracted  more  of  the  attention  of  the  mother 
country,  and  some  renown  in  arms  had  been  acquired.  Lord  Chatham  was 
the  first  English  minister  who  attached  high  importance  to  these  possessions 
of  the  crown,  and  who  foresaw  anything  of  their  future  growth  and  extension. 
His  opinion  was,  that  the  great  rival  of  England  was  chiefly  to  be  feared  as  a 
maritime  and  commercial  power,  and  to  drive  her  out  of  North  America,  and 
deprive  her  of  her  West  India  possessions  was  a  leading  object  in  his  policy. 
He  dwelt  often  on  the  fisheries,  as  nurseries  of  British  seamen,  and  the  colo 
nial  trade,  as  furnishing  them  employment.  The  war,  conducted  by  him  with 
vigor,  terminated  in  a  peace,  by  which  Canada  was  ceded  to  England.  The 
effect  of  this  was  immediately  visible  in  the  New  England  colonies ;  for  the 
fear  of  Indian  hostilities  on  the  frontiers  being  now  happily  removed,  settle 
ments  went  on  with  an  activity  before  that  time  altogether  unprecedented,  and 
public  affairs  wore  a  new  and  encouraging  aspect.  Shortly  after  this  fortu 
nate  termination  of  the  French  war,  the  interesting  topics  connected  with  the 
taxation  of  America  by  the  British  Parliament  began  to  be  discussed,  and  the 
attention  and  all  the  faculties  of  the  people  drawn  towards  them.  There  is 
perhaps  no  portion  of  our  history  moi  i  full  of  interest  than  the  period  from 


113 

1760  to  the  actual  commencement  of  the  war.  The  progress  of  opinion,  in 
this  period,  though  less  known,  is  not  less  important,  than  the  progress  of  arms 
afterwards.  Nothing  deserves  more  consideration  than  those  events  and  dis 
cussions  which  affected  the  public  sentiment,  and  settled  the  revolution  in 
men's  minds,  before  hostilities  openly  broke  out. 

Internal  improvement  followed  the  establishment,  and  prosperous  com 
mencement,  of  the  present  government.  More  has  been  done  for  roads, 
canals,  and  other  public  works,  within  the  last  thirty  years,  than  in  all  our 
former  history.  In  the  first  of  these  particulars,  few  countries  excel  the  New 
England  States.  The  astonishing  increase  of  the  navigation  and  trade  is 
known  to  every  one,  and  now  belongs  to  the  history  of  our  national  wealth. 

We  may  flatter  ourselves,  too,  that  literature  and  taste  have  not  been 
stationary,  and  that  some  advancement  has  been  made  in  the  elegant,  as  well 
as  in  the  useful  arts. 

The  nature  and  constitution  of  society  and  government  in  this  country  are 
interesting  topics,  to  which  I  would  devote  what  remains  of  the  time  allowed 
to  this  occasion.  Of  our  system  of  government  the  first  thing  to  be  said  is, 
that  it  is  really  and  practically  a  free  system.  It  originates  entirely  with  the 
people,  and  rests  on  no  other  foundation  than  their  assent.  To  judge  of  its 
actual  operation,  it  is  not  enough  to  look  merely  at  the  form  of  its  construc 
tion.  The  practical  character  of  government  depends  often  on  a  variety  of 
considerations,  besides  the  abstract  frame  of  its  constitutional  organization. 
Among  these  are  the  condition  and  tenure  of  property ;  the  laws  regulating 
its  alienation  and  descent;  the  presence  or  absence  of  a  military  power;  an 
armed  or  unarmed  yeomanry;  the  spirit  of  the  age,  and  the  degree  of  general 
intelligence.  In  these  respects  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  circumstances  of 
this  country  are  most  favorable  to  the  hope  of  maintaining  the  government 
of  a  great  nation  on  principles  entirely  popular.  In  the  absence  of  military 
power,  the  nature  of  government  must  essentially  depend  on  the  manner  in 
which  property  is  holden  and  distributed.  There  is  a  natural  influence  be 
longing  to  property,  whether  it  exists  in  many  hands  or  few ;  and  it  is  on  the 
right  of  property  that  both*  despotism  and  unrestrained  popular  violence  or 
dinarily  commence  their  attacks.  Our  ancestors  began  their  system  of  gov 
ernment  here  under  a  condition  of  comparative  equality  in  regard  to  wealth, 
and  their  early  laws  were  of  a  nature  to  favor  and  continue  this  equality. 

A  republican  form  of  government  rests  not  more  on  political  constitutions, 
than  on  those  laws  which  regulate  the  descent  and  transmission  of  property. 
Governments  like  ours  could  not  have  been  maintained,  where  property  was 
holden  according  to  the  principles  of  the  feudal  system ;  nor,  on  the  other 
hand,  could  the  feudal  constitution  possibly  exist  with  us.  Our  New  England 
ancestors  brought  hither  no  great  capitals  from  Europe;  and  if  they  had, 
there  was  nothing  productive  in  which  they  could  have  been  invested.  They 
left  behind  them  the  whole  feudal  policy  of  the  other  continent.  They  broke 
away  at  once  from  the  system  of  military  service  established  in  the  Dark 
Ages,  and  which  continues,  down  even  to  the  present  time,  more  or  less  to 
affect  the  condition  of  property  all  over  Europe.  They  came  to  a  new  country. 
There  were,  as  yet,  no  lands  yielding  rent,  and  no  tenants  rendering  service. 
The  whole  soil  was  unreclaimed  from  barbarism.  They  were  themselves, 
either  from  their  original  condition,  or  from  the  necessity  of  their  common  in 
terest,  nearly  on  a  general  level  in  respect  to  property.  Their  situation  de 
manded  a  parcelling  out  and  division  of  the  lands,  and  it  may  be  fairly  said 
that  this  necessary  &zi  fixed  the  future  frame  and  form  of  their  government. 


114 

The  character  of  their  political  institutions  was  determined  by  the  fundamen 
tal  laws  respecting  property.  The  laws  of  primogeniture,  at  first  limited  and 
curtailed,  was  afterwards  abolished.  The  property  was  all  freehold.  The  en- 
tailment  of  estates,  long  trusts,  and  the  other  processes  for  fettering  and  tying 
up  inheritances,  were  not  applicable  to  the  condition  of  society,  and  seldom 
made  use  of.  On  the  contrary,  alienation  of  the  land  was  every  way  facilita 
ted,  even  to  the  subjecting  of  it  to  every  species  of  debt.  The  establishment 
of  public  registries,  and  the  simplicity  of  our  forms  of  conveyance,  have 
greatly  facilitated  the  change  of  real  estate  from  one  proprietor  to  another. 
The  consequence  of  all  these  causes  has  been,  a  great  subdivision  of  the  soil, 
and  a  great  equality  of  condition;  the  true  basis,  most  certainly,  of  a  popular 
government.  "  If  the  people,"  says  Harrington,  "  hold  three  parts  in  four  of 
the  territory,  it  is  plain  there  can  neither  be  any  single  person  nor  nobility 
able  to  dispute  the  government  with  them;  in  this  case,  therefore,  except 
force  be  interposed,  they  govern  themselves." 

The  history  of  other  nations  may  teach  us  how  favorable  to  public  liberty 
are  the  division  of  the  soil  into  small  freeholds,  and  a  system  of  laws,  of 
which  the  tendency  is,  without  violence  or  injustice,  to  produce  and  to  pre 
serve  a  degree  of  equality  of  property.  It  has  been  estimated,  if  I  mistake 
not,  tb^at  about  the  time  of  Henry  the  Seventh  four-fifths  of  the  land  in 
England  was  holden  by  the  great  barons  and  ecclesiastics.  The  effects  of  a 
growing  commerce  soon  afterwards  began  to  break  in  on  this  state  of  things, 
and  before  the  Revolution,  in  1688,  a  vast  change  had  been  wrought.  It 
may  be  thought  probable  that,  for  the  last  half  century,  the  process  of  sub 
division  in  England  has  been  retarded,  if  not  reversed ;  that  the  great  weight 
of  taxation  has  compelled  many  of  the  lesser  freeholders  to  dispose  of  their 
estates,  and  to  seek  employment  in  the  army  and  navy,  in  the  professions  of 
civil  life,  in  commerce,  or  in  the  colonies.  The  effect  of  this  on  the  British 
constitution  cannot  but  be  most  unfavorable.  A  few  large  estates  grow  larger ; 
but  the  number  of  those  who  have  no  estates  also  increases;  and  there  may 
be  danger,  lest  the  inequality  of  property  become  so  great,  that  those  who 
possess  it  may  be  dispossessed  by  force ;  in  other  words,  that  the  government 
may  be  overturned. 

A  most  interesting  experiment  of  the  effect  of  a  subdivision  of  property  on 
government  is  now  making  in  France.  It  is  understood,  that  the  law  regu 
lating  the  transmission  of  property  in  that  country,  now  divides  it,  real  and 
personal,  among  all  the  children  equally,  both  sons  and  daughters;  and  that 
there  is,  also,  a  very  great  restraint  on  the  power  of  making  dispositions  of 
.property  by  will.  It  has  been  supposed,  that  the  effects  of  this  might  proba 
bly  be,  in  time,  to  break  up  the  soil  into  such  small  subdivisions,  that  the  pro 
prietors  would  be  too  poor  to  resist  the  encroachments  of  executive  power.  I 
think  far  otherwise.  What  is  lost  in  individual  wealth  will  be  more  than 
gained  in  numbers,  in  intelligence,  and  in  a  sympathy  of  sentiment.  If,  in 
deed,  only  one  or  a  few  landholders  were  to  resist  the  crown,  like  the  barons 
of  England,  they  must,  of  course,  be  great  and  powerful  landholders,  with 
multitudes  of  retainers,  to  promise  success.  But  if  the  proprietors  of  a  given 
extent  of  territory  are  summoned  to  resistance,  there  is  no  reason  to  believe 
that  such  resistance  would  be  less  forcible,  or  less  successful,  because  the  num 
ber  of  such  proprietors  happened  to  be  great.  Each  would  perceive  his  own 
importance,  and  his  own  interest,  and  would  feel  that  natural  elevation  of 
character  which  the  consciousness  of  property  inspires.  A  common  senti 
ment  would  unite  ah1,  and  numbers  would  not  only  add  strength,  but  excite 


115 

enthusiasm.  It  is  true,  that  France  possesses  a  vast  military  force,  undei  the 
direction  of  an  heriditary  executive  government ;  and  military  power,  it  is  pos 
sible,  may  overthrow  any  government.  It  is  in  vain,  however,  in  this  period 
of  the  world,  to  look  for  security  against  military  power  to  the  arm  of  the 
great  landholders.  That  notion  is  derived  from  a  state  of  things  long  sine* 
past;  a  state  in  which  a  feudal  baron,  with  his  retainers,  might  stand  against 
the  sovereign  and  his  retainers,  himself  but  the  greatest  baron.  But  at  pres 
ent,  what  could  the  richest  landholder  do,  against  one  regiment  of  disciplined 
troops  ?  Other  securities,  therefore,  against  the  prevalence  of  military  power 
must  be  provided.  Happily  for  us,  we  are  not  so  situated  as  that  any  purpose 
of  national  defence  requires,  ordinarily  and  constantly,  such  a  military  force  as 
might  seriously  endanger  our  liberties. 

In  respect,  however,  to  the  recent  law  of  succession  in  France,  to  which  I 
have  alluded,  I  would,  presumptiously  perhaps,  hazard  a  conjecture,  that,  if 
the  government  do  not  change  the  law,  the  law  in  half  a  century  will  change 
the  government ;  and  that  this  change  will  be,  not  in  favor  of  the  power  of 
the  crown,  as  some  European  writers  have  supposed,  but  against  it.  Those 
writers  only  reason  upon  what  they  think  correct  general  principles,  in  relation 
to  this  subject.  They  acknowledge  a  want  of  experience.  Here  we  have  had 
that  experience ;  and  we  know  that  a  multitude  of  small  proprietors,  acting 
with  intelligence,  and  that  enthusiasm  which  a  common  cause  inspires,  con 
stitute  not  only  a  formidable,  but  an  invincible  power. 

The  true  principle  of  a  free  and  popular  government  would  seem  to  be,  so 
to  construct  it  as  to  give  to  all,  or  at  least  to  a  very  great  majority,  an  interest 
in  its  preservation ;  to  found  it,  as  other  things  are  founded,  on  men's  interest. 
The  stability  of  government  demands  that  those  who  desire  its  continuance 
should  be  more  powerful  than  those  who  desire  its  dissolution.  This  power, 
of  course,  is  sot  always  to  be  measured  by  mere  numbers.  Education,  wealth, 
talents,  are  all  parts  and  elements  of  the  general  aggregate  of  power ;  but 
numbers,  nevertheless,  constitute  ordinarily  the  most  important  consideration, 
unless,  indeed,  there  be  a  military  force  in  the  hands  of  the  few,  by  which  they 
can  controj  the  many.  In  this  country  we  have  actually  existing  systems  of 
government,  in  the  maintenance  of  which,  it  should  seem,  a  great  majority, 
both  in  numbers  and  in  other  means  of  power  and  influence,  must  see  their 
interest.  But  this  state  of  things  is  not  brought  about  solely  by  writtten  po 
litical  constitutions,  or  the  mere  manner  of  organizing  the  government;  but 
also  by  the  laws  which  regulate  the  descent  and  transmission  of  property. 
The  freest  government,  if  it  could  exist,  would  not  be  long  acceptable,  if  the 
tendency  of  the  laws  were  to  create  a  rapid  accumulation  of  property  in  few 
hands,  and  to  render  the  great-  mass  of  the  population  dependent  and  penni 
less.  In  such  a  case,  the  popular  power  would  be  likely  to  break  in  upon  the 
rights  of  property,  or  else  the  influence  of  property  to  limit  and  control  the 
exercise  of  popular  power.  Universal  suffrage,  for  example,  could  not  long 
exist  in  a  community  where  there  was  great  inequality  of  property.  The 
holders  of  estates  would  be  obliged,  in  such  case,  in  some  way  to  restrain  the 
right  of  suffrage,  or  else  such  right  of  suffrage  would,  before  long,  divide  tho 
property.  In  the  nature  of  things,  those  who  have  not  property,  and  see  their 
neighbors  possess  much  more  than  they  think  them  to  need,  cannot  be  favora 
ble  to  laws  made  for  the  protection  of  property.  When  this  class  becomes 
numerous,  it  grows  clamorous.  It  looks  on  property  as  its  prey  and  plunder, 
and  is  naturally  ready,  at  all  times,  for  violence  and  revolution. 

It  would  seem,  then,  to  be  the  part  of  political  wisdom  to  found  government 


116 

on  property ;  and  to  establish  such  distribution  of  property,  by  the  laws  which 
regulate  its  transmission  and  alienation,  as  to  interest  the  great  majority  of  so 
ciety  in  the  support  of  the  government.  This  is,  I  imagine,  the  true  theory 
and  the  actual  practice  of  our  republican  institutions.  With  property  divided 
as  we  have  it,  no  other  government  than  that  of  a  republic  could  be  maintained 
even  were  we  foolish  enough  to  desire  it.  There  is  reason,  therefore,  to  ex 
pect  a  long  continuance  of  our  system.  Party  and  passion,  doubtless,  may 
prevail  at  times,  and  much  temporary  mischief  be  done.  Even  modes  and 
forms  may  be  changed,  and  perhaps  for  the  worse.  But  a  great  revolution  in 
regard  to  property  must  take  place,  before  our  governments  can  be  moved 
from  their  republican  basis,  unless  they  be  violently  struck  off  by  military 
power.  The  people  possess  the  property,  more  emphatically  than  it  could 
ever  be  said  of  the  people  of  any  other  country,  and  they  can  have  no 
interest  to  overturn  a  government  which  protects  that  property  by  equal 
laws. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed,  that  this  state  of  things  possesses  too  strong  ten 
dencies  towards  the  production  of  a  dead  and  uninteresting  level  in  society. 
Such  tendencies  are  sufficiently  counteracted  by  the  infinite  diversities  in  the 
characters  and  fortunes  of  individuals.  Talent,  activity,  industry,  and  en 
terprise  tend  at  all  times  to  produce  inequality  and  distinction;  and  there  is 
room  still  for  the  accumulation  of  wealth,  with  its  great  advantages,  to  all  rea 
sonable  and  useful  extent.  It  has  been  often  urged  against  the  state  of  socie 
ty  in  America,  that  it  furnishes  no  class  of  fortune  and  leisure.  This  may  be 
partly  true,  but  it  is  not  entirely  so,  and  the  evil,  if  it  be  one,  would  affect 
rather  the  progress  of  taste  and  literature,  than  the  general  prosperity  of  the 
people.  But  the  promotion  of  taste  and  literature  cannot  be  primary  objects 
of  political  institutions;  and  if  they  could,  it  might  be  doubted  whether,  in 
the  long  course  of  things,  as  much  is  not  gained  by  a  wide  diffusion  of  gen 
eral  knowledge,  as  is  lost  by  diminishing  the  number  of  those  who  are  ena 
bled  by  fortune  and  leisure  to  devote  themselves  exclusively  to  scientific  and 
literary  pursuits.  However  this  may  be,  it  is  to  be  considered  that  it  is  the 
spirit  of  our  system  to  be  equal  and  general,  and  if  there  be  particular  disad 
vantages  incident  to  this,  they  are  far  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  ben 
efits  which  weigh  against  them.  The  important  concerns  of  society  are  gen 
erally  conducted,  in  all  countries,  by  the  men  of  business  and  practical  ability ; 
and  even  in  matters  of  taste  and  literature,  the  advantages  of  mere  leisure  are 
liable  to  be  overrated.  If  there  exist  adequate  means  of  education  and  a  love 
of  letters  be  excited,  that  love  will  find  a  way  to  the  object  of  its  desire,  through 
the  crowd  and  pressure  of  the  most  busy  society. 

Connected  with  this  division  of  property,  and  the  consequent  participation 
of  the  great  mass  of  people  in  its  possession  and  enjoyments,  is  the  system  of 
representation,  which  is  admirably  accommodated  to  our  condition,  better  un 
derstood  among  us,  and  more  familiarly  and  extensively  practiced,  in  the  high 
er  and  in  the  lower  departments  of  government,  than  it  has  been  by  any  other 
people.  Great  facility  has  been  given  to  this  in  New  England  by  the  early 
division  of  the  country  into  townships  or  small  districts,  in  which  all  concerns 
of  local  police  are  regulated,  and  in  which  representatives  to  the  legislature  are 
elected.  Nothing  can  exceed  the  utility  of1  these  little  bodies.  They  are  so 
many  councils  or  parliaments,  in  which  common  interests  are  discussed,  and 
useful  knowledge  acquired  and  communicated. 

The  division  of  governments  into  departments,  and  the  division,  again,  of 
the  legislative  department  into  two  chambers,  are  essential  provisions  in  our 


117 

system.  This  last,  although  not  new  in  itself,  yet  seems  to  be  new  in  its  ap 
plication  to  governments  wholly  popular.  The  Grecian  republics,  it  is  plain, 
knew  nothing  of  it;  and  in  Rome,  the. check  and  balance  of  legislative  power, 
such  as  it  was,  lay  between  the  people  and  the  senate.  Indeed,  few  things 
are  more  difficult  than  to  ascertain  accurately  the  true  nature  and  construction 
of  the  Roman  commonwealth.  The  relative  power  of  the  senate  and  the 
people  of  the  consuls  and  the  tribunes,  appears  not  to  have  been  at  all  times 
the  same,  nor  at  any  time  accurately  denned  or  strictly  observed.  Cicero,  in 
deed,  describes  to  us  an  admirable  arrangement  of  political  power,  and  a  bal 
ance  of  the  constitution,  in  that  beautiful  passage,  in  which  he  compares  the 
democracies  of  Greece  with  the  Roman  commonwealth."  "  0  morern  precla- 
rum,  disciplinamque,  quam  a  majoribns  accepimus,  si  quidem  teneremus !  sed 
nescio  quo  pacto  jam  de  manibus  elabitur.  Nullam  enim  illi  nostri  sapientis- 
simi  et  sanctissimi  viri  vim  concionis  esse  voluerunt,  qu<£  scisseret  plebs,  aut 
quae  populus  juberet;  summota  conscione,  distributes  partibus,  tributim  et 
centuriatim  descriptis  ordinibus,  classibus,  setatibus,  auditus  auctoribus,  re  mul- 
tos  dies  promulgata  et  cognita,  juberi  vetarique  voluerunt.  Gra3corum  autem 
totre  respublicse  sedentis  concionis  temeritate  administrantur." 

But  at  what  time  this  wise  system  existed  in  this  perfection  at  Rome,  no 
proofs  remain  to  show.  Her  constitution,  originally  framed  for  a  monarchy, 
never  seemed  to  be  adjusted  in  its  several  parts  after  the  expulsion  of  the 
kings.  Liberty  there  was,  but  it  was  a  disputatious,  an  uncertain,  an  ill-se 
cured  liberty.  The  patrician  and  plebian  orders,  instead  of  being  matched 
and  joined,  each  in  its  just  place  and  proportion,  to  sustain  the  fabric  of  the 
state,  were  rather  like  hostile  powers,  in  perpetual  conflict.  With  us,  an  at 
tempt  has  been  made,  and  so  far  not  without  success,  to  divide  representation 
into  chambers,  and,  by  difference  of  age,  character,  qualification,  or  mode  of 
election,  to  establish  salutary  checks,  in  governments  altogether  elective. 

Having  detained  you  so  long  with  these  observations,  I  must  yet  adveit  to 
another  most  interesting  topic,  —  the  Free  Schools.  In  this  particular,  New 
England  may  be  allowed  to  claim,  I  think,  a  merit  of  a  peculiar  character, 
She  early  adopted,  and  has  constantly  maintained  the  principle,  that  it  is  the 
undoubted  right  and  the  bounden  duty  of  government  to  provide  for  the  in 
struction  of  all  youth.  That  which  is  elsewhere  left  to  chance  or  charity,  we 
secure  by  law.  For  the  purpose  of  public  instruction,  we  hold  every  man 
subject  to  taxation  in  proportion  to  his  property,  and  we  look  not  to  the  ques 
tion,  whether  he  himself  have,  or  have  not,  children  to  be  benefitted  by  the 
education  for  which  he  pays.  We  regard  it  as  a  wise  and  liberal  system  of 
police,  by  which  property,  and  life,  and  the  peace  of  society  are  secured.  We 
seek  to  prevent  in  some  measure  the  extension  of  the  penal  code,  by  inspiring 
a  salutary  and  conservative  principle  of  virtue  and  of  knowledge  in  an  early 
age.  We  strive  to  excite  a  feeling  of  respectability,  and  a  sense  of  character, 
by  enlarging  the  capacity  and  increasing  the  sphere  of  intellectual  enjoyment 
By  general  instruction,  we  seek,  as  far  possible,  to  purify  the  whole  moral 
atmosphere ;  to  keep  good  sentiments  uppermost,  and  to  turn  the  strong  cur 
rent  of  feeling  and  opinion,  as  well  as  the  censures  of  the  law  and  the  denun 
ciations  of  religion,  against  immorality  and  crime.  We  hope  for  a  security 
beyond  the  law,  and  above  the  law,  in  the  prevalence  of  an  enlightened  and 
veil-principled  moral  sentiment.  We  hope  to  continue  and  prolong  the  time, 
when,  hi  the  villages  and  farm-houses  of  New  England,  there  may  be  undis 
turbed  sleep  within  unbarred  doors.  And  knowing  that  our  government  rests 
directly  on  the  public  will,  in  order  that  we  may  preserve  it,  we  endeavor  to 


118 

give  a  safe  and  proper  diix^tior  io  that  public  will.  We  do  not,  indeed,  ex 
pect  all  men  to  be  philosophers  or  statesmen ;  but  we  confidently  trust,  and 
our  expectation  of  the  duration  of  our  system  of  government  rests  on  that 
trust,  that,  by  the  diffusion  of  general  knowledge  and  good  and  virtuous  sen 
timents,  the  political  fabric  may  be  secure,  as  well  against  open  violence  and 
overthrow,  as  against  the  slow,  but  sure,  undermining  of  licentiousness. 

We  know  that,  at  the  present  time,  an  attempt  is  making  in  the  English 
Parliament  to  provide  by  law  for  the  education  of  the  poor,  and  that  a  gen 
tleman  of  distinguished  character  (Mr.  Brougham)  has  taken  the  lead  in  pre 
senting  a  plan  to  government  for  carrying  that  purpose  into  effect.  And  yet, 
although  the  representatives  of  the  three  kingdoms  listened  to  him  with  as 
tonishment  as  well  as  delight,  we  hear  no  principles  with  which  we  ourselves 
have  not  been  familiar  from  youth ;  we  see  nothing  in  the  plan  but  an  ap 
proach  towards  that  system  which  has  been  established  in  New  England  for 
more  than  a  century  and  a  half.  It  is  said  that  in  England  not  more  than 
one  child  in  fifteen  possesses  the  means  of  being  taught  to  read  and  write ; 
in  Wales,  one  in  twenty ;  in  France,  until  lately,  when  some  improvement  was 
made,  not  more  than  one  in  thirty-five.  Now,  it  is  hardly  too  strong  to  say, 
that  in  New  England  every  child  possesses  such  means.  It  would  be  diffi 
cult  to  find  an  instance  to  the  contrary,  unless  where  it  should  be  owing  to  the 
negligence  of  the  parent;  and,  in  truth,  the  means  are  actually  used  and  en 
joyed  by  nearly  every  one.  A  youth  of  fifteen,  of  either  sex,  who  cannot 
both  read  and  write,  is  very  seldom  to  be  found.  Who  can  make  this  com 
parison,  or  contemplate  this  spectacle,  without  delight  and  a  feeling  of  just 
pride  ?  Does  any  history  show  property  more  beneficently  applied  ?  Did  any 
government  ever  subject  the  property  of  those  who  have  estates  to  a  burden, 
for  a  purpose  more  favorable  to  the  poor,  or  more  useful  to  the  whole  com 
munity  ? 

A  conviction  of  importance  of  public  instruction  was  one  of  the  earliest 
sentiments  of  our  ancestors.  No  lawgiver  of  ancient  or  modern  times  has  ex 
pressed  more  just  opinions,  or  adopted  wiser  measures,  than  the  early  records 
of  the  Colony  of  Plymouth  show  to  have  prevailed  here.  Assembled  on  this 
very  spot,  a  hundred  and  fifty  three  years  ago,  the  legislature  of  this  Colony 
declared,  "  Forasmuch  as  the  maintenance  of  good  literature  doth  much  tend 
to  the  advancement  of  the  weal  and  flourishing  state  of  societies  and  repub 
lics,  this  Court  doth  therefore  order,  that  in  whatever  township  in  this  govern 
ment,  consisting  of  fifty  families  or  upwards,  any  meet  man  shall  be  obtained 
to  teach  a  grammar  school,  such  township  shall  allow  at  least  twelve  pounds, 
to  be  raised  by  rate  on  all  the  inhabitants." 

Having  provided  that  all  youth  should  be  instructed  in  the  elements  of 
learning  by  the  institution  of  free  schools,  our  ancestors  had  yet  another  duty 
to  perform.  Men  were  to  be  educated  for  the  professions  and  the  public. 
For  this  purpose  they  founded  the  University,  and  with  incredible  zeal  and 
perseverance  they  cherished  and  supported  it,  through  all  trials  and  discour 
agements.  On  the  subject  of  the  University,  it  is  not  possible  for  a  son  of 
New  England  to  think  without  pleasure,  or  to  speak  without  emotion.  Noth 
ing  confers  more  honor  on  the  State  where  it  it  is  established,  or  more  utility 
on  the  country  at  large.  A  respectable  university  is  an  establishment  which 
must  be  the  work  of  time.  If  pecuniary  means  were  not  wanting,  no  new 
institution  could  possess  character  and  respectability  at  once.  We  owe  deep 
obligation  to  our  ancestors,  who  began,  almost  on  the  moment  of  their  arrival 
the  work  of  building  up  the  institution. 


119 

Although  established  in  a  different  government,  the  Colony  of  Plymouth 
manifested  warm  friendship  for  Harvard  College.  At  an  early  period,  its 
gove-rnment  took  measures  to  promote  a  general  subscription  throughout  all 
the  towns  in  this  Colony,  in  aid  of  its  small  funds.  Other  colleges  were  sub 
sequently  founded  and  endowed,  in  other  places,  as  the  ability  of  the  people 
allowed ;  and  we  may  flatter  ourselves,  that  the  means  of  education  at  present 
enjoyed  in  New  England  are  not  only  adequate  to  the  diffusion  of  the  ele 
ments  of  knowledge  among  all  classes,  but  sufficient  also  for  respectable  at 
tainments  in  literature  and  the  sciences. 

Lastly,  our  ancestors  established  their  system  of  government  on  morality 
and  religious  sentiment.  Moral  habits,  they  believed,  cannot  safely  be  trusted 
on  any  other  foundation  than  religious  principle,  nor  any  government  be  se 
cure  which  is  not  supported  by  moral  habits.  Living  under  the  heavenly 
light  of  revelation,  they  hoped  to  find  all  the  social  dispositions,  all  the  duties 
winch  men  owe  to  each  other  and  to  society,  enforced  and  performed.  What 
ever  makes  men  good  Christians,  makes  them  good  citizens.  Our  fathers 
came  here  to  enjoy  their  religion  free  and  unmolested ;  and,  at  the  end  of  two 
centuries,  there  is  nothing  upon  which  we  can  pronounce  more  confidently, 
nothing  of  which  we  can  express  a  more  deep  and  earnest  conviction,  than  of 
the  inestimable  importance  of  that  religion  to  man,  both  in  regard  to  this  life 
and  that  which  is  to  come. 

If  the  blessings  of  our  political  and  social  condition  have  not  been  too 
highly  estimated,  we  cannot  well  overrate  the  responsibility  and  duty  which 
they  impose  upon  us.  We  hold  these  institutions  of  government,  religion,  and 
learning,  to  be  transmitted,  as  well  as  enjoyed.  We  are  in  the  line  of  con 
veyance,  through  which  whatever  has  been  obtained  by  the  spirit  and  efforts 
of  our  ancestors  is  to  be  communicated  to  our  children. 

We  are  bound  to  maintain  public  liberty,  and,  by  the  example  of  our  own 
systems,  to  convince  the  world  that  order  and  law,  religion  and  morality,  the 
rights  of  conscience,  the  rights  of  persons,  and  the  rights  of  property,  may  all 
be  preserved  and  secured,  in  the  most  perfect  manner,  by  a  government  entire 
ly  and  purely  elective.  If  we  fail  in  this,  our  disaster  will  be  signal,  and  will 
furnish  an  argument,  stronger  than  has  yet  been  found,  in  support  of  those 
opinions  which  maintain  that  government  can  rest  safely  on  nothing  but  pow 
er  and  coercion.  As  far  as  experience  may  show  errors  in  our  establishments, 
we  are  bound  to  correct  them ;  and  if  any  practices  exist  contrary  to  the  prin 
ciples  of  justice  and  humanity  within  the  reach  of  our  laws  or  our  influence, 
we  are  inexcusable  if  we  do  not  exert  ourselves  to  restrain  and  abolish 
them. 

I  deem  it  my  duty  on  this  occasion  to  suggest,  that  the  land  is  not  yet 
wholly  free  from  the  contamination  of  a  traffic,  at  which  every  feeling  of  hu 
manity  must  for  ever  revolt, — I  mean  the  African  slave-trade.  At  the  mo 
ment  when  God  in  his  mercy  has  blessed  the  Christian  world  with  a  univer 
sal  peace,  there  is  reason  to  fear,  that,  to  the  disgrace  of  the  Christian  name 
and  character,  new  efforts  are  making  for  the  extension  of  this  trade  by  sub 
jects  and  citizens  of  Christian  states,  in  whose  hearts  there  dwell  no  senti 
ments  of  humanity  or  of  justice,  and  over  whom  neither  the,fear  of  God  nor 
the  fear  of  man  exercises  a  control.  In  the  sight  of  our  law,  the  African 
slave-trader  is  a  pirate  and  a  felon ;  and  in  the  sight  of  Heaven,  an  offender 
far  beyond  the  ordinary  depth  of  human  guilt.  There  is  no  brighter  page  of 
our  history,  than  that  which  records  the  measures  which  have  been  adopted 
by  the  government  at  an  early  day,  and  at  different  times  since,  for  the  sup- 

y 


120 

pression  of  this  traffic;  and  I  would  call  on  all  the  true  SODS  of  New 
land  to  co-operate  with  the  laws  of  man,  and  the  justice  of  Heaven. 
be,  within  the  extent  of  our  knowledge  or  influence,  any  participation  in  this 
traffic,  let  us  pledge  ourselves  here,  upon  the  rock  of  Plymouth,  to  extirpate 
and  destroy  it.  It  is  not  fit  that  the  land  of  the  Pilgrims  should  bear  the 
shame  longe/.  I  hear  the  sound  of  the  hammer,  I  see  the  smoke  of  the  fur 
naces  where  manacles  and  fetters  are  still  forged  for  human  limbs.  I  see  the 
visages  of  those  who  by  stealth  and  at  midnight  labor  in  this  work  of  hel), 
foul  and  dark,  as  may  become  the  artificers  of  such  instruments  of  misery 
and  torture.  Let  that  spot  be  purified,  or  let  it  cease  to  be  of  New  England. 
Let  it  be  purified,  or  let  it  be  set  aside  from  the  Christian  world ;  let  it  be  put 
out  of  the  circle  of  human  sympathies  and  human  regards,  and  let  civilized 
man  henceforth  have  no  communion  with  it. 

I  would  invoke  those  who  fill  the  seats  of  justice,  and  all  who  minister  at 
her  altar,  that  they  execute  the  wholesome  and  necessary  severity  of  the  law. 
I  invoke  the  ministers  of  our  religion,  that  they  proclaim  its  denunciation  of 
these  crimes,  and  add  the  solemn  sanctions  to  the  authority  of  human  laws. 
If  the  pulpit  be  silent,  whenever,  or  wherever,  there  may  be  a  sinner  bloody 
with  this  guilt,  within  the  hearing  of  its  voice,  the  pulpit  is  false  to  its  trust. 
I  call  on  the  fair  merchant,  who  have  reaped  his  harvest  upon  the  seas,  that 
he  assist  in  scourging  from  those  seas  the  worst  pirates  which  ever  infested 
them.  That  ocean,  which  seems  to  wave  with  a  gentle  magnificence  to  waft 
the  burden  of  an  honest  commerce,  and  to  roll  along  its  treasures  with  a  con 
scious  pride ;  that  ocean,  which  hardy  industry  regards,  even  when  the  winda 
have  ruffled  its  surface,  as  a  field  of  grateful  toil,  what  is  it  to  be  the  victim 
of  this  oppression,  when  he  is  brought  to  its  shores,  and  looks  forth  upon  it, 
for  the  first  time,  from  beneath  chains,  and  bleeding  with  stripes  ?  What  is  il 
to  him,  but  a  wide  spread  prospect  of  suffering,  anguish  and  death  ?  Nor  do 
the  skies  smile  longer,  nor  is  the  air  longer  fragrant  to  him.  The  sun  is  cast 
down  from  heaven.  An  inhuman  and  accursed  traffic  has  cut  him  off  in  his 
manhood,  or  in  his  youth,  from  every  enjoyment  belonging  to  his  being,  and 
every  blessing  which  his  Creator  intended  for  him. 

The  Christian  communities  send  forth  their  emissaries  of  religion  and  let 
ters,  who  stop,  here  and  there,  along  the  coast  of  the  vast  continent  of  Africa, 
and  with  painful  and  tedious  efforts,  make  some  almost  imperceptible  progress 
in  the  communication  of  knowledge,  and  in  the  general  improvement  of  the 
natives  who  are  immediately  about  them.  Not  thus  slow  and  imperceptible 
is  the  transmission  of  the  vices  and  bad  passions  which  the  subjects  of  Chris 
tian  states  carry  to  the  land.  The  slave  trade  having  touched  the  coast,  its 
influence  and  its  evils  spread,  like  a  pestilence,  over  the  whole  continent,  mak 
ing  savage  wars  more  savage,  and  more  frequent,  and  adding  new  and  fierce 
}'  assions  to  the  contests  of  barbarians. 

I  pursue  this  topic  no  further;  except  again  to  say,  that  all  Christendom 
being  now  blessed  with  peace,  is  bound  by  everything  which  belongs  to  its 
character,  and  to  the  character  of  the  present  age,  to  put  a  stop  to  this  inhu 
man  and  disgraceful  traffic. 

We  are  bound  not  only  to  maintain  the  general  principles  of  public  liberty, 
but  to  support  also  those  existing  forms  of  government,  which  have  so  well 
secured  its  enjoyment,  and  so  highly  promoted  the  public  prosperity.  It  is 
now  more  than  thirty  years  that  these  states  have  been  united  under  the 
Federal  constitution,  and  whatever  fortune  may  await. them  hereafter,  it  is  im 
possible  that  this  period  of  their  history  should  not  be  regarded  as  distinguish- 


121 

ed  by  signal  prosperity  and  success.  They  must  be  sanguine,  indeed,  who 
can  hope  for  benefit  from  change.  Whatever  divisions  of  the  public  judg 
ment  may  have  existed  in  relation  to  particular  measures  of  the  government, 
all  must  agree,  one  should  think,  in  the 'opinion,  that  in  its  general  course  it 
has  been  eminently  productive  of  public  happiness.  Its  most  ardent  friends 
could  not  well  have  hoped  from  it  more  than  it  has  accomplished ;  and  those 
who  disbelieved  or  doubted  ought  to  feel  less  concern  about  predictions,  which 
the  event  has  not  verified,  than  pleasure  in  the  good  which  has  been  obtained. 
Whoever  shall  hereafter  write  this  part  of  our  history,  although  he  may  see 
occasional  errors  or  defect's,  will  be  able  to  record  no  great  failure  in  the  ends 
and  objects  of  government.  Still  less  will  he  be  able  to  record  any  series  of 
lawless  and  despotic  acts,  or  any  successful  usurpation.  His  page  will  contain 
no  exhibition  of  provinces  depopulated,  of  civil  authority  habitually  trampled 
down  by  military  power,  or  of  a  community  crushed  by  the  burden  of  taxa 
tion.  He  will  speak,  rather,  of  public  liberty  protected,  and  public  happiness 
advanced;  of  increased  revenue,  and  population  augmented  beyond  all  ex 
ample  ;  of  the  growth  of  commerce,  manufactures,  and  the  arts ;  and  of  that 
happy  condition,  in  which  the  restraint  and  coercion  of  government  are  al 
most  invisible  and  imperceptible,  and  its  influence  felt  only  in  the  benefits 
which  it  confers.  We  can  entertain  no  better  wish  for  our  country  than  that 
this  government  may  be  preserved;  nor  have  a  clearer  duty  than  to  maintain 
and  support  it  in  the  full  exercise  of  all  its  just  constitutional  powers. 

The  cause  of  science  and  literature  also  imposes  upon  us  an  important  and 
delicate  trust.  The  wealth  and  population  of  the  country  are  now  so  far  ad 
vanced,  as  to  authorize  the  expectation  of  a  correct  literature,  and  a  well  formed 
taste,  as  well  as  respectable  progress  in  the  abstruse  sciences.  The  country  has 
risen  from  a  state  of  colonial  dependency ;  it  has  established  an  independent 
government,  and  is  now  in  the  undisturbed  enjoyment  of  peace  and  political 
security.  The  elements  of  knowledge  are  universally  diffused,  and  the  read 
ing  portion  of  the  community  large.  Let  us  hope  that  the  present  may  be 
an  auspicious  era  of  literature.  If,  almost  on  the  day  of  their  landing,  our 
ancestors  founded  schools  and  endowed  colleges,  what  obligations  do  not  rest 
upon  us,  living  under  circumstances  so  much  more  favorable  both  for  providing 
and  for  using  the  means  of  education  ?  Literature  becomes  free  institutions. 
It  is  the  graceful  ornament  of  civil  liberty,  and  a  happy  restraint  on  the  asperi 
ties,  which  political  controversy  sometimes  occasions.  Just  taste  is  not  only  an 
embellishment  of  society,  but  it  rises  almost  to  the  rank  of  the  virtues,  and 
diffuses  positive  good  throughout  the  whole  extent  of  its  influence.  There  is 
a  connexion  between  right  feeling  and  right  principles,  and  truth  in  taste  is 
allied  with  truth  in  morality.  With  nothing  in  our  past  history  to  discourage 
us,  and  with  something  in  our  present  condition  and  prospects  to  animate  us, 
let  us  hope,  that  as  it  is  our  fortune  to  live  in  an  age  when  we  may  behold  a 
wonderful  advancement  of  the  country  in  all  its  other  great  interests,  we  may 
see  also  equal  progress  and  success  attend  the  cause  of  letters. 

Finally,  let  us  not  forget  the  religious  character  of  our  origin.  Our  fathers 
were  brought  hither  by  their  high  veneration  for  the  Christian  religion.  They 
journeyed  by  the  light,  and  labored  in  its  hope.  They  sought  to  incorporate 
its  principles  with  the  elements  of  their  society,  and  to  diffuse  its  influence 
through  all  their  institutions,  civil,  political,  or  literary.  Let  us  cherish  these 
sentiments,  and  extend  this  influence  still  more  widely;  in  the  full  conviction, 
that  that  is  the  happiest  society,  which  partakes  in  the  highest  degree  of  thd 
mild  and  peaceable  spirit  of  Christianity, 


322  ....  .,ci....r  ,,_....,.  . 

Che  hours  of  this  clay  are  rapidly  flying,  and  this  occasion  will  soon  be  pass- 
^feither  we  nor  our  children  can  expect  to  behold  its  return.  They  are 
in  the  distant  regions  of  futurity,  they  exist  only  in  the  all-creating  power  of 
God,  who  shall  stand  here,  a  hundred  years  hence,  to  trace,  through  us,  their 
descent  from  the  Pilgrims,  and  to  survey,  as  we  have  now  surveyed,  the  pro 
gress  of  their  country,  during  the  lapse  of  a  century.  We  would  anticipate 
their  concurrence  with  us  in  our  sentiments  of  deep  regard  for  our  common 
ancestors.  We  would  anticipate  and  partake  the  pleasure  with  which  they 
will  then  recount  the  steps  of  New  England's  advancement.  On  the  morn 
ing  of  that  day,  although  it  will  not  disturb  us  in  our  repose,  the  voice  of  ac 
clamation  and  gratitude,  commencing  on  the  Rock  of  Plymouth,  shall  be 
transmitted  through  millions  of  the  sons  of  the  Pilgrims,  till  it  lose  itself  in 
the  murmurs  of  the  Pacific  seas. 

We  would  leave  for  the  consideration  of  those  who  shall  then  occupy  our 
places  some  proof  that  we  hold  the  blessings  transmitted  from  our  fathers  in 
just  estimation ;  some  proof  of  our  attachment  to  the  cause  of  good  govern 
ment,  and  of  civil  and  religious  liberty ;  some  proof  of  a  sincere  and  ardent 
desire  to  promote  everything  which  may  enlarge  the  understandings  and  im 
prove  the  hearts  cf  men.  And  when  from  the  long  distance  of  an  hundred 
years,  they  shall  look  back  upon  us,  they  shall  know,  at  least,  that  we  Dossess- 
ed  affections,  which  running  backward,  and  warming  with  gratitude  for  what 
our  ancestors  have  done  for  our  happiness,  run  forward  also  to  our  posterity, 
and  meet  them  with  cordial  salutation,  ere  yet  they  have  arrived  on  the  shore 
of  being. 

Advance,  then,  ye  future  generations !  We  would  hail  you,  as  you  rise  in 
your  long  succession,  to  fill  the  places  which  we  now  fill,  and  to  taste  the  bless 
ings  of  existence,  where  we  are  passing,  and  soon  shall  have  passed,  our  own 
human  duration.  We  bid  you  welcome  to  this  pleasant  land  of  the  fathers 
We  bid  you  welcome  to  the  healthful  skies  and  the  verdant  fields  of  New 
England.  We  greet  your  accession  to  the  great  inheritance  which  we  have 
enjoyed.  We  welcome  you  to  the  blessings  of  good  government,  and  religious 
liberty.  We  welcome  you  to  the  treasures  of  science,  and  the  delights  of 
learning.  We  welcome  you  to  the  transcendent  sweets  of  domestic  life,  to  the 
happiness  of  kindred,  and  parents,  and  children.  We  welcome  you  to  the 
immeasurable  blessings  of  rational  existence,  the  immortal  hope  of  Christianity 
and  the  light  of  eveilasting  truth ! 


THE  BUNKER  HILL  MONUMENT. 


DELIVERED    AT   THE   CORNER    STONE   OF    BUNKER    HILL   MON 
UMENT,   JUNE   IT,    1825. 


This  uncounted  multitude  before  me  and  around  me  proves  the  feeling 
which  the  cause  has  excited.  These  thousands  of  human  faces,  glowing  with 
sympathy  and  joy,  and  from  the  impulses  of  a  common  gratitude  turned  rev 
erently  to  heaven  in  this  spacious  temple  of  the  firmajnent,  proclaim  that  the 
day,  the  place,  and  the  purpose  of  our  assembling  have  made  a  deep  impres 
sion  on  our  hearts. 

If,  indeed,  there  be  any  thing  in  local  association  fit  to  affect  the  mind  of 
man,  we  need  not  strive  to  repress  the  emotions  which  agitate  us  here.  We 
are  among  the  sepulchres  of  our  fathers.  We  are  on  ground,  distinguished  by 
their  valor,  their  constancy,  and  the  shedding  of  their  blood.  We  are  here, 
not  to  fix  an  uncertain  date  in  our  annals,  nor  so  draw  into  notice  an  obscure 
and  unknown  spot.  If  our  humble  purpose  had  never  been  conceived,  if  we 
ourselves  had  never  been  born,  the  iVth  of  June,  1775,  would  have  been  a 
day  on  which  all  subsequent  history  would  have  poured  its  light,  and  the  emi 
nence  where  we  stand  a  point  of  attraction  to  the  eyes  of  successive  genera 
tions.  But  we  are  Americans.  We  live  in  what  may  be  called  the  early  age 
of  this  great  continent ;  and  we  know  that  our  posterity,  through  all  time,  are 
here  to  enjoy  and  suffer  the  allotments  of  humanity.  We  see  before  us  a 
probable  train  of  great  events ;  we  know  that  our  own  fortunes  have  been  hap 
pily  cast;  and  it  is  natural,  therefore,  that  we  should  be  moved  by  the  con 
templation  of  occurrences  which  have  guided  our  destiny  before  ,many  of  us 
were  born,  and  settled  the  condition  in  which  we  should  pass  that  portion  of 
our  existence  which  God  allows  to  men  on  earth. 

We  do  not  read  even  of  the  discovery  of  this  continent,  without  feeling 
Something  of  a  personal  interest  in  the  event;  without  being  reminded  how 
much  it  has  affected  our  own  fortunes  and  our  existence.  It  would  be  still 
more  unnatural  for  us,  therefore,  than  for  others,  to  contemplate  with  unaffec 
ted  minds  that  interesting,  I  may  say  that  most  touching  and  pathetic  scene 
when  the  great  discoverer  of  America  stood  on  the  deck  of  his  shattered 
bark,  the  shades  of  night  falling  on  the  sea,  yet  no  man  sleeping ;  tossed  on 
the  billows  of  an  unknown  ocean,  yet  the  stronger  billows  of  alternate  hope 
and  despair  tossing  his  own  troubled  thoughts;  extending  forward  his  har 
assed  frame,  straining  westward  his  anxious  and  eager  eyes,  till  Heaven  at  last 
granted  him  a  moment  of  rapture  and  ecstacy,  in  blessing  his  vision  with  tha 
sight  of  the  unknown  world,  . 


124 

Nearer  to  our  times,  more  closely  connected  with  our  fates,  and  therefore 
still  more  interesting  to  our  feelings  and  affections,  is  the  settlement  of  our 
own  country  by  colonists  from  England.  We  cherish  every  memorial  of  these 
worthy  ancestors ;  we  celebrate  their  patience  and  fortitude ;  we  admire  their 
daring  enterprise ;  we  teach  our  children  to  venerate  their  piety ;  and  we  are 
justly  proud  of  being  descended  from  men  who  have  set  the  world  an  exam 
ple  of  founding  civil  institutions  on  the  great  and  united  principles  of  human 
freedom  and  human  knowledge.  To  us,  their  children,  the  story  of  their  la 
bors  and  sufferings  can  never  be  without  its  interest.  We  shall  not  stand  un 
moved  on  the  shore  of  Plymouth,  while  the  sea  continues  to  wash  it ;  nor  will 
our  brethren  in  another  early  and  ancient  Colony  forget  the  place  of  its  first 
establishment,  till  their  river  shall  cease  to  flow  by  it.  No  vigor  of  youth,  no 
maturity  of  manhood,  will  lead  the  nation  to  forget  the  spots  where  its  infan 
cy  was  cradled  and  defended. 

But  the  great  event  in  tne  history  of  the  continent,  which  we  are  now  met 
here  to  commemorate,  that  prodigy  of  modern  times,  at  once  the  wonder  and 
the  blessing  of  the  world,  is  the  American  Revolution.  In  a  day  of  extraor 
dinary  prosperity  and  happiness,  of  high  national  honor,  distinction,  and  pow 
er,  we  are  brought  together,  in  this  place,  by  our  love  of  country,  by  our  ad 
miration  of  exalted  character,  by  our  gratitude  for  signal  services  and  patri 
otic  devotion. 

The  Society  whose  organ  I  am  was  formed  for  the  purpose  of  rearing  some 
honorable  and  durable  monument  to  the  memory  of  the  early  friends  of  Am 
erican  Independence.  They  have  thought,  that  for  this  object  no  time  could 
be  more  propitious  than  the  present  prosperous  and  peaceful  period ;  that  no 
place  could  claim  preference  over  this  memorable  spot ;  and  that  no  day  could 
be  more  auspicious  to  the  undertaking,  than  the  anniversary  of  the  battle 
which  was  here  fought.  The  foundation  of  that  monument  we  have  DOW 
laid.  With  solemnities  suited  to  the  occasion,  with  prayers  to  Almighty  God 
for  his  blessing,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  cloud  of  witnesses,  we  have  begun 
the  work.  We  trust  it  will  be  prosecuted,  and  that,  springing  from  a  broad 
foundation,  rising  high  in  massive  solidity  and  unadorned  grandeur,  it  may 
remain  as  long  as  Heaven  permits  the  work  of  man  to  last,  a  fit  emblem,  both 
of  the  events  in  memory  of  which  it  is  raised,  and  of  the  gratitude  of  those 
\vho  have  reared  it. 

We  know,  indeed,  that  the  record  of  illustrious  actions  is  most  safely  depo 
sited  in  the  universal  remembrance  of  mankind.  We  know,  that  if  we  could 
cause  this  structure  to  ascend,  not  only  till  it  reached  the  skies,  but  till  it 
pierced  them,  its  broad  surfaces  could  still  contain  but  part  of  that  which,  in 
an  age  of  knowledge,  hath  already  been  spread  over  the  earth,  and  which  his 
tory  charges  itself  with  making  known  to  all  future  times.  We  know  that 
no  inscription  on  entablatures  less  broad  than  the  earth  itself  can  carry  infor 
mation  of  the  events  we  commemorate  where  it  had  not  already  gone ;  and 
that  no  structure,  which  shall  not  outlive  the  duration  of  letters  and  knowl 
edge  among  men,  can  prolong  the  memorial.  But  our  object  is,  by  this  edi 
fice,  to  show  our  own  deep  sense  of  the  value  and  importance  of  the  achieve 
ments  of  our  ancestors ;  and,  by  presenting  this  work  of  gratitude  to  the  eye, 
to  keep  alive  similar  sentiments,  and  to  foster  a  constant  regard  for  the  princi 
ples  of  the  Revolution.  Human  beings  are  composed,  not  of  reason  only,  but 
of  imagination  also,  and  sentiment;  and  that  is  neither  wasted  nor  misapplied 
\which  is  appropriated  to  the  purpose  of  giving  right  direction  to  sentiments, 
\^id  opening  proper  springs  of  feeling  in  the  heart.  Let  it  not  be  supposed 


125 

that  our  object  is  to  perpetuate  national  hostility,  or  even  to  cherish  a  mere    \ 
military  spirit.     It  is  higher,  purer,  nobler.     We  consecrate  our  work  to  the 
spirit  of  national  independence,  and  we  Avish  that  the  light  of  peace  may  rest 
upon  it  for  ever.     We  rear  a  memorial  of -our  conviction  of  that  unmeasured 
benefit  which  has  been  conferred  on  our  own  land,  and  of  the  happy  influen 
ces  which  have  been  produced,  by  the  same  events,  on  the  general  interests 
of  mankind.     We  come,  as  Americans,  to  mark  a  spot  which  must  forever 
be  dear  to  us  and  our  posterity.     We  wish  that  whosoever,  in  all  coining 
time,  sli,all  turn  his  eye  hither,  may  behold  that  the  place  is  not  undistin 
guished  where  the  first  great  battle  of  the  Revolution  was  fought.   'We  wish 
that  this  structure  may  proclaim  the  magnitude  and  importance  of  that  event 
to  every  class  and  every  age.     We  wish  that  infancy  may  learn  the  purpose 
of  its  erection  from  maternal  lips,  and  that  weary  and  withered  age  may  be 
hold  it,  and  be  solaced  by  the  recollections  which  it  suggests.     We  wish  that 
labor  may  look  up  here,  and  be  proud,  in  the  midst  of  its  toil.     We  wish  that 
in  those  days  of  disaster,  which,  as  they  come  upon  all  nations,  must  be  ex 
pected  to  come  upon  us  also,  desponding  patriotism  may  turn  its  eyes  hither-      \ 
ward,  and  be  assured  that  the  foundations  of  our  national  power  are  still  strong. 
We  wish  that  this  column,  rising  toward  heaven  among  the  pointed  spires  of 
so  many  temples  dedicated  to  God,  may  contribute  also  to  produce,  in  all 
minds,  a  pious  feeling  of  dependence  and  gratitude.     We  wish,  finally,  that 
the  last  object  to  the  sight  of  him  who  leaves  his  native  shore,  and  the  first       / 
to  gladden  his  who  revisits  it,  may  be  something  which  shall  remind  him  of       / 
the  liberty  and  the  glory  of  his  country.     Let  it  rise !  let  it  rise,  till  it  meet    / 
the  sun  in  his  coming ;  let  the  earliest  light  of  the  morning  gild  it,  and  part--/ 
ing  day  linger  and  play  on  its  summit. 

We  live  in  a  most  extraordinary  age.  Events  so  various  and  so  important 
that  they  might  crowd  and  distinguish  centuries,  are,  in  our  times,  compressed 
within  the  compass  of  a  single  life.  When  has  it  happened  that  history  has 
had  so  much  to  record,  in  the  same  term  of  years,  as  since  the  1 7th  of  June, 
1775?  Our  own  Revolution,  which,  under  other  circumstances,  might  itself 
have  been  expected  to  occasion  a  war  of  half  a  century,  has  been  achieved ; 
twenty-four  sovereign  and  independent  States  erected ;  and  a  general  govern 
ment  established  over  them,  so  safe,  so  wise,  so  free,  so  practical,  that  we  might 
•well  wonder  its  establishment  should  have  been  accomplished  so  soon,  were  it 
not  for  greater  the  wonder  that  it  should  have  been  established  at  all.  Two 
or  three  millions  of  people  have  been  augmented  to  twelve,  the  great  forests 
of  the  West  prostrated  beneath  the  arm  of  successful  industry,  and  the  dwel 
lers  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  and  the  Mississippi  become  the  fellow-citizens 
and  neighbors  of  those  who  cultivate  the  hills  of  New  England.  We  have 
a  commerce,  that  leaves  no  sea  unexplored ;  navies,  which  take  no  law  from 
superior  force ;  revenues,  adequate  to  all  the  exigencies  of  government,  almost 
without  taxation ;  and  peace  with  all  nations,  founded  on  equal  rights  and 
mutual  respect. 

Europe,  within  the  same  period  has  been  agitated  by  a  mighty  revolution, 
which,  while  it  has  been  felt  in  the  individual  condition  and  happiness  of  al 
most  every .  man,  has  shaken  to  the  centre  her  political  fabric,  and  dashed 
against  one  another,  thrones  which  had  stood  tranquil  for  ages.  On  this,  our 
continent,  our  own  example  has  been  followed,  and  colonies  have  sprung  up 
to  be  nations.  Unaccustomed  sounds  of  liberty  and  free  government  have 
reached  us  from  beyond  the  track  of  the  sun ;  and  at  this  moment  the  domin 
ion  of  European  power  in  this  continent,  from  the  place  where  we  stand  to 
the  south  pole,  is  annihilated  for  ever. 


126 

In  the  mean  time,  botli  in  Europe  and  America,  such  lias  been  the  general 
progress  of  knowledge,  such  the  improvement  in  legislation,  in  commerce,  in 
the  arts,  in  letters,  and,  above  all,  in  liberal  ideas  and  the  general  spirit  of  the 
age,  that  the  whole  world  seems  changed. 

Yet,  notwithstanding  that  this  is  but  a  faint  abstract  of  the  things  which 
have  happened  since  the  day  of  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  we  are  but  fifty 
years  removed  from  it ;  and  we  now  stand  here  to  enjoy  all  the  blessings  of 
our  own  condition,  and  to  look  abroad  on  the  brightened  prospects  of  the 
world,  while  we  still  have  among  us  some  of  those  who  were  active  agents  in 
the  scenes  of  1775,  and  who  are  now  here,  from  every  quarter  of  New  Eng 
land,  to  visit  once  more,  and  under  circumstances  so  affecting,  I  had  almost 
said  so  overwhelming,  this  renowned  theatre  of  their  courage  and  patri 
otism. 

VENERABLE  MEN  !  you  have  come  down  to  us  from  a  former  generation. 
Heaven  has  bounteously  lengthened  out  your  lives,  that  you  might  behold  this 
joyous  day.  You  are  now  where  you  stood  fifty  years  ago,  this  very  hour, 
with  your  brothers  and  your  neighbors,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  in  the  strife  for 
your  country.  Behold  how  altered !  The  same  heavens  are  indeed  over  your 
heads ;  the  same  ocean  rolls  at  your  feet ;  but  all  else  how  changed !  You 
hear  now  no  roar  of  hostile  cannon,  you  see  no  mixed  volumes  of  smoke  and 
flame  rising  from  burning  Charlestown.  The  ground  strewed  with  the  dead 
and  the  dying ;  the  impetuous  charge ;  the  steady  and  successful  repulse ;  the 
loud  call  to  repeated  assault ;  the  summoning  of  all  that  is  manly  to  repeated 
resistance;  a  thousand  bosoms  freely  and  fearlessly  bared  in  an  instant  to 
whatever  of  terra."  there  may  be  in  war  and  death ;  —  all  these  you  have  wit 
nessed,  but  you  witness  them  no  more.  All  is  peace.  The  heights  of  yon 
der  metropolis,  its  towers  and  roofs,  which  you  then  saw  filled  with  wives  and 
children  and  countrymen  in  distress  and  terror,  and  looking  with  unutterable 
emotions  for  the  issue  of  the  combat,  have  presented  you  to-day  with  the  sight 
of  its  whole  happy  population,  come  out  to  welcome  and  greet  you  with  a 
universal  jubilee.  Yonder  proud  ships,  by  a  felicity  of  position  appropriate 
ly  lying  at  the  foot  of  this  mount,  and  seeming  fondly  to  cling  around  it,  are 
not  means  of  annoyance  to  you,  but  your  country's  own  means  of  distinction 
and  defence.  All  is  peace;  and  God  has  granted  you  this  sight  of  your 
country's  happiness,  ere  you  slumber  in  the  grave.  He  has  allowed  you  to 
behold  and  to  partake  the  reward  of  your  patriotic  toils ;  and  he  has  allowed 
us,  your  sons  and  countrymen,  to  meet  you  here,  and  in  the  name  of  the  pres 
ent  generation,  in  the  name  of  your  country,  in  the  name  of  liberty,  to 
thank  you! 

But,  alas !  you  are  not  all  here !  Time  and  the  sword  have  thinned  your 
ranks.  Prescott,  Putnam,  Stark,  Brooks,  Read,  Pomeroy,  Bridge !  our  eyes 
seek  for  you  in  vain  amid  this  broken  band.  You  are  gathered  to  your  fath 
ers,  and  live  only  to  your  country  in  her  grateful  remembrance  and  your  own 
bright  example.  But  let  us  not  too  much  grieve,  that  you  have  met  the  com 
mon  fate  of  men.  You  lived  at  least  long  enough  to  know  that  your  work 
had  been  nobly  and  successfully  accomplished.  You  lived  to  see  your  coun 
try's  independence  established,  and  to  sheathe  your  swords  from  war.  On  the 
light  of  Liberty  you  saw  arise  the  light  of  Peace,  like 

"another  morn, 
Risen  on  mid-noon." 

and  the  sky  on  which,  you  closed  your  eyes  was  cloudless. 


127 

But  ah !  Him !  the  first  great  martyr  in  this  great  cause !  Him !  the  pre- 
mature  victim  of  his  own  self-devoting  heart !  Him !  the  head  of  our  civil 
councils,  and  the  destined  leader  of  our  military  bands,  whom  nothing  brought 
hither  but  the  unquenchable  fire  of  his  oVn  spirit !  Him !  cut  oft'  by  Provi 
dence  in  the  hour  of  overwhelming  anxiety  and  thick  gloom ;  falling  ere  he 
saw  the  star  of  his  country  rise ;  pouring  out  his  generous  blood,  like  water, 
before  lie  knew  whether  it  would  fertilize  a  land  of  freedom  or  of  bondage !  — 
how  shall  I  struggle  with  the  emotions  that  stifle  the  utterance  of  thy  name  ? 
Our  poor  work  may  perish ;  but  thine  shall  endure !  This  monument  may 
moulder  away ;  the  solid  ground  it  rests  upon,  may  sink  down  to  a  level  with 
the  sea ;  but  thy  memory"  shall  not  fail !  Wheresoever  among  men  a  heart 
shall  be  found  that  beats  to  the  transport  of  patriotism  and  liberty,  its  aspira 
tions  shall  be  to  claim  kindred  with  thy  spirit ! 

But  the  scene  amidst  which  we  stand  does  not  permit  us  to  confine  our 
thoughts  or  our  sympathies  to  those  fearless  spirits  who  hazarded  or  lost  their 
lives  on  this  consecrated  spot.  We  have  the  happiness  to  rejoice  here  in  the 
presence  of  a  most  worthy  representation  of  the  survivors  of  the  whole  Revo 
lutionary  army. 

VETERANS  !  you  are  the  remnant  of  many  a  well-fought  field.  You  bring 
with  you  marks  of  honor  from  Trenton  and  Monmouth,  from  Yorktown, 
Cainden,  Bennington,  and  Saratoga.  VETERANS  OF  HALF  A  CENTURY  !  when 
in  your  youthful  days  you  put  everything  at  hazard  in  your  country's  cause, 
good  as  that  cause  was,  and  sanguine  as  youth  is,  still  your  fondest  hopes  did 
not  stretch  onward  to  an  hour  like  this !  At  a  period  to  which  you  could  not 
reasonably  have  expected  to  arrive,  at  a  moment  of  national  prosperity  such 
as  you  could  never  have  foreseen,  you  are  now  met  here  to  enjoy  the  fellow 
ship  of  old  soldiers,  and  to  receive  the  overflowing  of  a  universal  grati 
tude. 

But  your  agitated  countenances  and  your  heaving  breasts  inform  me  that 
even  this  is  not  an  unmixed  joy.  I  perceive  that  a  tumult  of  contending 
feelings  rushes  upon  you.  The  images  of  the  dead,  as  well  as  the  persons  of 
the  living,  present  themselves  before  you.  The  scene  overwhelms  you,  and  1 
turn  from  it.  May  the  Father  of  all  mercies  smile  upon  your  declining  years, 
and  bless  them  !  And  when  you  shall  here  have  exchanged  your  embraces, 
when  you  shall  once  more  have  pressed  the  hands  which  have  been  so  often 
extended  to  give  succor  in  adversity,  or  grasped  in  the  exultation  of  victory, 
then  look  abroad  upon  this  lovely  land  which  your  young  valor  defended,*  and 
mark  the  happiness  with  which  it  is  filled ;  yea,  look  abroad  upon  the  whole 
earth,  and  see  what  a  name  you  have  contributed  to  give  to  your  country,  and 
what  a  praise  you  have  added  to  freedom,  and  then  rejoice  in  the  sympathy 
and  gratitude  which  beam  upon  your  last  days  from  the  improved  condition 
of  mankind ! 

The  occasion  does  not  require  of  me  any  particular  account  of  the  battle 
of  the  17th  of  June,  1775,  nor  any  detailed  narrative  of  the  events  which 
immediately  preceded  it.  These  are  familiarly  known  to  all.  In  the  pro 
gress  of  the  great  and  interesting  controversy,  Massachusetts  and  the  town  of 
Boston  had  become  early  and  marked  objects  of  the  displeasure  of  the  British 
Parliament.  This  had  been  manifested  in  the  act  for  altering  the  government 
of  the  Province,  and  in  that  for  shutting  up  the  port  of  Boston.  Nothing 
sheds  more  honor  on  our  early  history,  and  nothing  better  shows  how  little 
the  feelings  and  sentiments  of  the  Colonies  were  known  or  regarded  in  Eng 
land,  than  the  impression  which  these  measures  everywhere  produced  in  Amer- 


128 

ita.  It  had  been  anticipated,  that  while  the  Colonies  in  general  would  be 
terrified  by  the  severity  of  the  punishment  inflicted  on  Massachusetts,  the  oth 
er  seaports  would  be  governed  by  a  mere  spirit  of  gain ;  and  that,  as  Boston 
was  now  cut  off  from  all  commerce,  the  unexpected  advantage  which  this 
blow  on  her  was  calculated  to  confer  on  other  towns  would  be  greedily  enjoy 
ed.  How  miserably  such  reasoners  deceived  themselves  !  How  little  they 
knew  of  the  depth,  and  the  strength,  and  the  intenseness  of  that  feeling  of  resis 
tance  to  illegal  acts  of  power,  which  possessed  the  whole  American  people ! 
Everywhere  the  unworthy  boon  was  rejected  with  scorn.  The  fortunate  occa 
sion  was  seized,  everywhere,  to  show  to  the  whole  world  that  the  Colonies 
were  swayed  by  no  local  interest,  no  partial  interest,  no  selfish  interest.  The 
the  temptation  to  profit  by  the  punishment  of  Boston  was  strongest  to  our 
neighbors  of  Salem.  Yet  Salein  was  precisely  the  place  where  this  misera 
ble  proffer  was  spurned,  in  a  tone  of  the  most  lofty  self-respect  and  the  most 
indignant  patriotism.  "  We  are  deeply  afiected,"  said  its  inhabitants,  "  with 
the  sense  of  our  public  calamities ;  but  the  miseries  that  are  now  rapidly  has 
tening  on  our  brethren  in  the  capital  of  the  Province  greatly  excite  our  com 
miseration.  By  shutting  up  the  port  of  Boston,  some  imagine  that  the  course 
of  trade  might  be  turned  hither  and  to  our  benefit ;  but  we  must  be  dead  to 
every  idea  of  justice,  lost  to  all  feelings  of  humanity,  could  we  indulge  a 
thought  to  seize  on  wealth  and  raise  our  fortunes  on  the  ruin  of  our  suffering 
neighbors."  These  noble  sentiments  were  not  confined  to  our  immediate  vi 
cinity.  In  that  day  of  general  affection  and  brotherhood,  the  blow  given  to 
Boston  smote  on  every  patriotic  heart  from  one  end  of  the  country  to  the 
other.  Virginia  and  the  Carolinas,  as  well  as  Connecticut  and  New  Hamp 
shire,  felt  and  proclaimed  the  cause  to  be  their  own.  The  Continental  Con 
gress,  then  holding  its  first  session  in  Philadelphia,  expressed  its  sympathy  for 
the  suffering  inhabitants  of  Boston,  and  addresses  were  received  from  all  quar 
ters,  assuring  them  that  the  cause  was  a  common  one,  and  should  be  met  by 
common  efforts  and  common  sacrifices.  The  Congress  of  Massachusetts  res 
ponded  to  these  assurances;  and  in  an  address  to  the  Congress  at  Philadel 
phia,  bearing  the  official  signature,  perhaps  among  the  last,  of  the  immortal 
Warren,  notwithstanding  the  severity  of  its  suffering  and  the  magnitude  of 
the  dangers  which  threatened  it,  it  was  declared,  that  this  Colony  "  is  ready, 
at  all  times,  to  spend  and  be  spent  in  the  cause  of  America." 

But  the  hour  drew  nigh  which  was  to  put  professions  to  the  proof,  and  to 
determine  whether  the  authors  of  these  mutual  pledges  were  ready  to  seal 
them  in  blood.  The  tidings  of  Lexington  and  Concord  had  no  sooner  spread, 
than  it  was  universally  felt  that  the  time  was  at  last  come  for  action.  A  spirit 
pervaded  all  ranks,  not  transient,  not  boisterous,  but  deep,  solemn,  deter 
mined, 

"  totamque  infusa  per  artus 
Mens  agitat  molem,  et  magno  se  corpore  miscet." 

War,  on  their  owrn  soil  and  at  their  own  doors,  was,  indeed,  a  strange  work  to 
the  yeomanry  of  New  England ;  but  their  consciences  were  convinced  of  its 
necessity,  their  country  called  them  to  it,  and  they  did  not  withhold  them 
selves  from  the  perilous  trial.  The  ordinary  occupations  of  life  were  aband 
oned  ;  tKe  plough  was  staid  in  the  unfinished  furrow ;  wives  gave  up  their 
husbands,  and  mothers  gave  up  their  sons,  to  the  battles  of  a  civil  war.  Death 
might  come,  in  honor,  on  the  field ;  it  might  come,  in  disgrace,  on  the  scaf 
fold.  For  either  and  for  both  they  were  prepared.  The  sentiment  of  Quincy 


129 

was  full  in  their  hearts.  "  Blandishments,"  said  that  distinguished  son  of 
genius  and  patriotism,  "  will  not  fascinate  us,  nor  will  threats  of  a  halter  in 
timidate  ;  for,  under  God,  we  are  determined  that,  wheresoever,  whensoever,  or 
howsoever  we  shall  be  called  to  make  our  exit,  we  will  die  free  men." 

The  17th  of  June  saw  the  four  New  England  Colonies  standing  here,  side 
by  side,  to  triumph  or  to  fall  together;  and  there  was  with  them  from  that 
moment  to  the  end  of  the  war,  what  I  hope  will  remain  with  them  for  ever, 
one  cause,  one  country,  one  heart. 

The  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  was  attended  with  the  most  important  effects 
beyond  its  immediate  results  as  a  military  engagement.  It  created  at  once  a 
state  of  open,  public  war.  There  could  now  be  no  longer  a  question  of  pro 
ceeding  against  individuals,  as  guilty  of  treason  or  rebellion.  That  fearful 
crisis  was  past  The  appeal  lay  to  the  sword,  and  the  only  question  was, 
whether  the  spirit  and  the  resources  of  the  people  would  hold  out,  till  the  ob 
ject  should  be  accomplished.  Nor  were  its  general  consequences  confined  to 
our  own  country.  The  previous  proceedings  of  the  Colonies,  their  appeals, 
resolutions,  and  addresses,  had  made  their  cause  known  in  Europe.  Without 
boasting,  we  may  say,  that  in  no  age  or  country  has  the  public  cause  been 
maintained  with  more  force  of  argument,  more  power  of  illustration,  or  more 
of  that  persuasion  which  excited  feeling  and  elevated  principle  can  alone  bes 
tow,  than  the  Revolutionary  state  papers  exhibit.  These  papers  will  for  ever 
deserve  to  be  studied,  not  only  for  the  spirit  which  they  breathe,  but  for  the 
ability  with  which  they  were  written. 

To  this  able  vindication  of  their  cause,  the  Colonies  had  now  added  a 
practical  and  severe  proof  of  their  own  true  devotion  to  it,  and  given  evidence 
also  of  the  power  which  they  could  bring  to  its  support.  All  now  saw,  that 
if  America  fell,  she  would  not  fall  without  a  struggle.  Men  felt  sympathy 
and  regard,  as  well  as  surprise,  when  they  beheld  these  infant  states,  remote, 
unknown,  unaided,  encounter  the  power  of  England,  and  in  the  first  conside 
rable  battle,  leave  more  of  their  enemies  dead  on  the  field,  in  proportion  to 
the  number  of  combatants,  than  had  been  recently  known  to  fall  in  the  wars 
of  Europe. 

Information  of  these  events,  circulating  throughout  the  world,  at  length 
reached  the  ears  of  one  who  now  hears  me.  He  has  not  forgotton  the  emo 
tion  which  the  fame  of  Bunker  Hill,  and  the  name  of  Warren,  excited  in  his 
youthful  breast. 

Sir,  we  are  assembled  to  commemorate  the  establishment  of  great  public 
principles  of  liberty,  and  to  do  honor  to  the  distinguished  dead.  The  occa 
sion  is  too  severe  for  eulogy  of  the  living.  But,  Sir,  your  interesting  i  elation 
to  this  country,  the  peculiar  circumstances  which  surround  you  and  surround 
us,  call  on  me  to  express  the  happiness  which  we  derive  from  your  presence 
and  aid  in  this  solemn  commemoration. 

Fortunate,  fortunate  man !  with  what  measure  of  devotion  will  you  not 
than  k  God  for  the  circumstances  of  your  extraordinary  life  ?  You  are  con 
nected  with  both  hemispheres  and  with  two  generations.  Heaven  saw  fit  to 
ordain,  that  the  electric  spark  of  liberty  should  be  conducted,  through  you, 
from  the  New  World  to  the  Old ;  and  we,  who  are  now  here  to  perform  this 
duty  of  patriotism,  have  all  of  us  long  ago  received  it  in  charge  from  our 
fathers  to  cherish  your  name  and  your  virtues.  You  will  account  it  an  in 
stance  of  your  good  fortune,  Sir,  that  you  crossed  the  seas  to  visit  us  at  a  time 
which  enables  you  to  be  present  at  this  solemnity.  You  now  behold  the  field, 
the  renown  of  which  reached  you  in  the  heart  of  France,  and  caused  a  thrill 


130 

in  your  ardent  bosom.  You  see  the  lines  of  the  little  redoubt  thrown  tip  by 
the  incredible  diligence  of  Prescott ;  defended,  to  the  last  extremity,  by  his 
lion-hearted  valor ;  and  within  which  the  corner-stone  of  our  monument  has 
now  taken  its  position.  You  see  where  Warren  fell,  and  where  Parker,  Gard 
ner,  McCleary,  Moore,  and  other  early  patriots,  fell  with  him.  Those  who 
survived  that  day,  and  whose  lives  have  been  prelonged  to  the  present  hour, 
are  now  around  you.  Some  of  them  you  have  known  in  the  trying  scenes 
of  the  war.  Behold !  they  now  stretch  forth  their  feeble  arms  to  embrace  you. 
Behold !  they  raise  their  trembling  voices  to  invoke  the  blessing  of  God  on 
you  and  yours  for  ever. 

Sir,  you  have  assisted  us  in  laying  the  foundation  of  this  structure.  You 
have  heard  us  rehearse,  with  our  feeble  commendation,  the  names  of  departed, 
patriots.  Monuments  and  eulogy  belong  to  the  dead.  We  give  them  this 
day  to  Warren  and  his  associates.  On  other  occasions  they  have  been  given 
to  your  more  immediate  companions  in  arms,  to  Washington,  to  Greene,  to 
Gates,  to  Sullivan,  and  to  Lincoln.  We  have  become  reluctant  to  grant  these, 
our  highest  and  last  honors,  further.  We  would  gladly  hold  them  yet  back 
from  the  little  remnant  of  that  immortal  band.  Serus  in  coelum  redeas.  Il 
lustrious  as  are  your  merits,  yet  far,  0,  very  far  distant  be  the  day,  when  any 
inscription  shall  bear  your  name,  or  any  tongue  pronounce  its  eulogy ! 

The  leading  reflection  to  which  this  occasion  seems  to  invite  us,  respects  the 
great  changes  which  have  happened  in  the  fifty  years  since  the  battle  of  Bun 
ker  Hill  was  fought.  And  it  peculiarly  marks  the  character  of  the  present 
age,  that,  in  looking  at  these  changes,  and  in  estimating  their  effect  on  our 
condition,  wre  are  obliged  to  consider,  not  what  has  been  done  in  our  own 
eountry  only,  but  in  othere  also.  In  these  interesting  times,  while  nations  are 
making  separate  and  individual  advances  in  improvement,  they  make,  too,  a 
common  progress ;  like  vessels  on  a  common  tide,  propelled  by  the  gales  at 
different  rates,  according  to  their  several  structure  and  management,  but  all 
moved  forward  by  one  mighty  current,  strong  enough  to  bear  onward  what 
ever  does  not  sink  beneath  it. 

A  chief  distinction  of  the  present  day  is  a  community  of  opinions  and 
knowledge  amongst  men  in  different  nations,  existing  in  a  degree  heretofore 
unknown.  Knowledge  has,  in  our  time,  triumphed,  and  is  triumphing,  over 
distance,  over  difference  of  languages,  over  diversity  of  habits,  over  prejudice, 
and  over  bigotry.  The  civilized  and  Christian  world  is  fast  learning  the  great 
lesson,  that  difference  of  nation  does  not  imply  necessary  hostility,  and  that  all 
contact  need  not  be  war.  The  whole  world  is  becoming  a  common  field  for 
intellect  to  act  in.  Energy  of  mind,  genius,  power,  wheresoever  it  exists  may 
speak  out  in  any  tongue,  and  the  world  will  hear  it.  A  great  chord  of  senti 
ment  and  feeling  runs  through  two  continents,  and  vibrates  over  both.  Every 
breeze  wafts  intelligence  from  country  to  country ;  every  wave  rolls  it ;  all  give 
it  forth,  and  all  in  turn  receive  it.  There  is  a  vast  commerce  of  ideas ;  there 
are  marts  and  exchanges  for  intellectual  discoveries,  and  a  wonderful  fellow 
ship  of  those  individual  intelligences  which  make  up  the  mind  and  opinion 
of  the  age.  Mind  is  the  great  lever  of  all  things ;  human  thought  is  the 
process  by  which  human  ends  are  ultimately  answered ;  and  the  diffusion  of 
knowledge,  so  astonishing  in  the  last  half  century,  has  rendered  innumerable 
minds,  variously  gifted  by  nature,  competent  to  be  the  competitors  or  fellow- 
workers  on  the  theatre  of  intellectual  operation. 

From  these  causes  important  improvements  have  taken  place  in  the  perso 
nal  condition  of  individuals.  Generally  speaking,  mankind  are  not  only  bet- 


131 

ter  fed  and  better  clothed,  but  they  are  able  also  to  enjoy  more  leisure ;  they 
possess  more  refinement  and  more  self-respect.  A  superior  tone  of  education, 
manners,  and  habits  prevails.  This  remark,  most  true  in  its  application  to  our' 
own  country,  is  also  partly  true  when  applied  elsewhere.  It  is  proved  by  the 
vastly  augmented  consumption  of  those  articles  of  manufacture  and  of  com 
merce  which  contribute  to  the  comforts  and  the  decencies  of  life ;  an  augmen 
tation  which  has  far  outrun  the  progress  of  population.  And  while  the  un 
exampled  and  almost  incredible  use  of  machinery  would  seem  to  supply  the 
place  of  labor,  labor  still  finds  its  occupation  and  its  reward ;  so  wisely  has 
Providence  adjusted  men's  wants  and  desires  to  their  condition  and  their 
capacity. 

Any  adequate  survey,  however,  of  the  progress  made  during  the  last  half- 
century  in  the  polite  and  the  mechanic  arts,  in  machinery  and  manufactures, 
in  commerce  and  agriculture,  in  letters  and  in  science,  would  require  volumes. 
I  must  abstain  wholly  from  these  subjects,  and  turn  for  a  moment  to  the  con 
templation  of  what  has  been  done  on  the  great  question  of  politics  and  gov 
ernment.  This  is  the  master  topic  of  the  age;  and  during  the  whole  fifty 
years  it  has  intensely  occupied  the  thoughts  of  men.  The  nature  of  civil 
government,  its  ends  and  uses,  have  been  canvassed  and  investigated ;  ancient 
opinions  attacked  and  defended ;  new  ideas  recommended  and  resisted,  by 
whatever  power  the  mind  of  man  could  bring  to  the  controversy.  From  the 
closet  and  the  public  halls  the  debate  has  been  transferred  to  the  field ;  and 
the  world  has  been  shaken  by  wars  of  unexampled  magnitude,  and  the  great 
est  variety  of  fortune.  A  day  of  peace  has  at  length  succeeded ;  and  now 
that  the  strife  has  subsided,  and  the  smoke  cleared  away,  we  may  begin  to  see 
what  has  actually  been  done,  permanently  changing  the  state  and  condition 
of  human  society.  And,  without  dwelling  on  particular  circumstances,  it  is 
most  apparent,  that,  from  the  before-mentioned  causes  of  augmented  knowledge 
and  improved  individual  condition,  a  real,  substantial,  and  important  change 
has  taken  place,  and  is  taking  place,  highly  favorable,  on  the  whole,  to  human 
liberty  and  human  happiness. 

The  great  wheel  of  political  revolution  began  to  move  in  America.  Here 
its  rotation  was  guarded,  regular,  and  safe.  Transferred  to  the  other  conti 
nent,  from  unfortunate  but  natural  causes,  it  received  an  irregular  and  violent 
impulse ;  it  whirled  along  with  a  fearful  celerity ;  till  at  length,  like  the  char 
iot-wheels  in  the  races  of  antiquity,  it  took  fire  from  the  rapidity  of  its  own 
motion,  and  blazed  onward,  spreading  conflagration  and  terror  around. 

We  learn  from  the  result  of  this  experiment,  how  fortunate  was  our  own 
condition,  and  how  admirably  the  character  of  our  people  was  calculated  for 
setting  the  great  example  of  popular  governments.  The  possession  of  power 
did  not  turn  the  heads  of  the  American  people,  for  they  had  long  been  in 
the  habit  of  exercising  a  great  degree  of  self-control.  Although  the  para 
mount  authority  of  the  parent  state  existed  over  them,  yet  a  large  field  of  le 
gislation  had  always  been  open  to  our  Colonial  assemblies.  They  were  ac 
customed  to  representative  bodies  and  the  forms  of  free  government ;  they 
understood  the  doctrine  of  the  division  of  power  among  different  branches, 
and  the  necessity  of  checks  on  each.  The  character  of  our  countrymen, 
moreover,  was  sober,  moral  and  religious ;  and  there  was  little  in  the  change 
to  shock  their  feelings  of  justice  and  humanity,  or  even  to  disturb  an  honest 
prejudice.  We  had  no  domestic  throne  to  overturn,  no  privileged  orders  to 
cast  down,  no  violent  changes  of  property  to  encounter.  In  the  American 
Revolution,  no  man  sought  or  \vished  for  more  than  to  defend  and  enjoy  his 


132 

own.  None  hoped  for  plunder  or  for  spoil.  Rapacity  was  unknown  to  it ; 
the  axe  was  not  among  the  instruments  of  its  accomplishment;  and  we  all 
know  that  it  could  not  have  lived  a  single  day  under  any  well-founded  impu 
tation  of  possessing  a  tendency  adverse  to  the  Christian  religion. 

It  need  not  surprise  us,  that,  under  circumstances  less  auspicious,  political 
revolutions  elsewhere,  even  when  well  intended,  have  terminated  differently. 
It  is,  indeed,  a  great  achievement;  it  is  the  master-work  of  the  world,  to  es 
tablish  governments  entirely  popular  on  lasting  foundations ;  nor  is  it  easy,  in 
deed,  to  introduce  the  popular  principle  at  all  mto  governments  to  which  it 
has  been  altogether  a  stranger.  It  cannot  be  doubted,  however,  that  Europe 
has  come  out  of  the  contest,  in  which  she  has  been  so  long  engaged,  with 
greatly  superior  knowledge,  and,  in  many  respects,  in  a  highly  improved  con 
dition.  Whatever  benefit  has  been  acquired,  is  likely  to  be  retained,  for  it 
consists  mainly  in  the  acquisition  of  more  enlightened  ideas.  And  although 
kingdoms  and  provinces  may  be  wrested  from  the  hands  that  hold  them,  in 
the  same  manner  they  were  obtained ;  although  ordinary  and  vulgar  power 
may,  in  human  affairs,  be  lost  as  it  has  been  won ;  yet  it  is  the  glorious  pre 
rogative  of  the  empire  of  knowledge,  that  what  it  gains  it  never  loses.  On 
the  contrary,  it  increases  by  the  multiple  of  its  own  power ;  all  its  ends  be 
come  means ;  all  its  attainments,  helps  to  new  conquests.  Its  whole  abundant 
harvest  is  but  so  much  seed  wheat,  and  nothing  has  limited,  and  nothing  can 
limit,  the  amount  of  ultimate  product. 

Under  the  influence  of  this  rapidly  increasing  knowledge,  the  people  have 
begun,  in  all  forms  of  government,  to  think,  and  to  reason,  on  affairs  of  state. 
Regarding  government  as  an  institution  for  the  public  good,  they  demand  a 
knowledge  of  its  operations,  and  a  participation  in  its  exercise.  A  call  for  the 
representative  system,  wherever  it  is  not  enjoyed,  and  where  there  is  already 
intelligence  enough  to  estimate  its  value,  is  perseveringly  made.  Where  men 
may  speak  out,  they  demand  it ;  where  the  bayonet  is  at  their  throats,  they 
pray  for  it. 

When  Louis  the  Fourteenth  said, "  I  am  the  state,"  he  expressed  the  essence 
of  the  doctrine  of  unlimited  power.  By  the  rules  of  that  system,  the  people 
are  disconnected  from  the  state;  they  are  its  subjects;  it  is  their  lord.  These 
ideas,  founded  in  the  love  of  power,  and  long  supported  by  the  excess  and  the 
abuse  of  it,  are  yielding,  in  our  age,  to  other  opinions;  and  the  civilized  world 
seems  at  last  to  be  proceeding  to  the  conviction  of  that  fundamental  and  man 
ifest  truth,  that  the  powers  of  government  are  but  a  trust,  and  that  they  can 
not  be  lawfully  exercised  but  for  the  good  of  the  community.  As  knowledge 
is  more  and  more  extended,  this  conviction  becomes  more  and  more  geneial. 
Knowledge,  in  truth,  is  the  great  sun  in  the  firmament.  Life  and  power  are 
scattered  with  all  its  beams.  The  prayer  of  the  Grecian  champion,  when  en 
veloped  in  unnatural  clouds  and  darkness,  is  the  appropriate  political  supplica 
tion  for  the  people  of  every  country  not  yet  blessed  with  free  institutions : — 

"  Dispel  this  cloud,  the  light  of  heaven  restore, 
Give  me  TO  SEE, — and  Ajax  asks  no  more." 

We  may  hope  that  the  growing  influence  of  enlightened  sentiment  will 
promote  the  permanent  peace  of  the  world.  Wars  to  maintain  family  alliances, 
to  uphold  or  to  cast  down  dynasties,  and  to  regulate  successions  to  thrones, 
which  have  occupied  so  much  room  in  the  history  of  modern  times,  if  not  less 
likely  to  happen  at  all,  will  be  less  likely  to  become  general,  and  involve  many 


133 

nations,  as  the  great  principle  shall  be  more  and  more  established,  that  the  in 
terest  of  the  world  is  peace,  and  its  first  great  statute,  that  every  nation  poi- 
sesses  the  power  of  establishing  a  government  for  itself.  But  public  opinion 
has  attained  also  an  influence  over  government  which  do  not  admit  the  popu 
lar  principle  into  their  organization.  A  necessary  respect  for  the  judgment 
of  the  world,  operates,  in  some  measure,  as  a  control  over  the  most  unlimited 
forms  of  authority.  It  is  owing,  perhaps,  to  this  truth,  that  the  interesting 
struggle  of  the  Greeks  has  been  suffered  to  go  on  so  long,  without  a  direct  in 
terference,  either  to  wrest  that  country  from  its  present  masters,  or  to  execute 
the  system  of  pacification  by  force,  and,  with  united  strength,  lay  the  neck  of 
Christian  and  civilized  Greek  at  the  foot  of  the  barbarian  Turk,  Let  us  thank 
God  that  we  live  in  an  age  when  something  has  influence  besides  the  bayonet, 
and  when  the  sternest  authority  does  not  venture  to  encounter  the  scorching 
power  of  public  reproach.  Any  attempt  of  the  kind  I  have  mentioned  should 
be  met  by  one  universal  burst  of  indignation ;  the  air  of  the  civilized  world 
ought  to  be  made  too  warm  to  be  comfortably  breathed  by  any  one  who 
would  hazard  it. 

It  is,  indeed,  a  touching  reflection,  that,  while,  in  the  fulness  of  our  coun 
try's  happiness,  we  rear  this  monument  to  her  honor,  we  look  for  instruction 
in  our  undertaking  to  a  country  which  is  now  in  fearful  contest,  not  for  works 
of  art  or  memorials  of  glory,  but  for  her  own  existence.  Let  her  be  assured, 
that  she  is  not  forgotten  in  the  world ;  that  her  efforts  are  applauded,  and  that 
constant  prayers  ascend  for  her  success.  And  let  us  cherish  a  confident  hope 
for  her  final  triumph.  If  the  true  spark  of  religious  and  civil  liberty  be  kin 
dled,  it  will  burn.  Human  agency  cannot  extinguish  it.  Like  the  earth's 
central  fire,  it  maybe  smothered  for  a  time;  the  ocean  may  overwhelm  it; 
mountains  may  press  it  down ;  but  its  inherent  and  unconquerable  force  will 
heave  both  the  ocean  and  the  land,  and  at  some  time  or  other,  in  some  place 
or  other,  the  volcano  will  break  out  and  flame  up  to  heaven. 

Among  the  great  events  of  the  half-century,  we  must  reckon,  certainly,  the 
revolution  of  South  America;  and  we  are  not  likely  to  overrate  the  import 
ance  of  that  revolution,  either  to  the  people  of  the  country  itself  or  to  the 
rest  of  the  world.  The  late  Spanish  colonies,  now  independent  states,  under 
circumstances  less  favorable,  doubtless,  than  attended  our  own  revolution,  have 
yet  successfully  commenced  their  national  existence.  They  have  accomplished 
the  great  object  of  establishing  their  independence ;  they  are  known  and  ac 
knowledged  in  the  world ;  and  although  in  regard  to  their  systems  of  govern 
ment,  their  sentiments  on  religious  toleration,  and  their  provisions  for  public 
instruction,  they  may  yet  have  much  to  learn,  it  must  be  admitted  that  they 
have  risen  to  the  condition  of  settled  and  established  states  more  rapidly  than 
could  have  been  reasonably  anticipated.  They  already  furnish  an  exhilarating 
example  of  the  difference  between  free  governments,  and  despotic  misrule. 
Their  commerce,  at  this  moment,  creates  a  new  activity  in  all  the  great  marts 
of  the  world.  They  show  themselves  able,  by  an  exchange  of  commodities, 
to  bear  a  useful  part  in  the  intercourse  of  nations. 

A  new  spirit  of  enterprise  and  industry  begins  to  prevail ;  all  the  great  in 
terests  of  society  receive  a  salutary  impulse;  and  the  progress  of  information 
not  only  testifies  to  an  improved  condition,  but  itself  constitutes  the  highest 
and  most  essential  improvement. 

When  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  was  fought,  the  existence  of  South  Amer 
ica  was  scarcely  felt  in  the  civilized  world.  The  thirteen  little  Colonies  of 
Korth  America  habitually  called  themselves  the  "  Continent."  Borne  down 


134 

by  colonial  subjugation,  monopoly,  and  bigotry,  these  vast  regions  of  the 
South  were  hardly  visible  above  the  horizon.  But  in  our  day  there  has  been, 
as  it  were,  a  new  creation.  The  southern  hemisphere  emerges  from  the  sea. 
Its  lofty  mountains  begin  to  lift  themselves  into  the  light  of  heaven ;  its  broad 
and  fertile  plains  stretch  out,  in  beauty,  to  the  eye  of  civilized  man,  and  at 
the  mighty  bidding  of  the  voice  of  political  liberty,  the  waters  of  darkness 
retire. 

And,  now,  let  us  indulge  an  honest  exultation  in  the  conviction  of  the 
benefit  which  the  example  of  our  country  has  produced,  and  is  likely  to  pro 
duce,  on  human  freedom  and  human  happiness.  Let  us  endeavor  to  compre 
hend  in  all  its  magnitude,  and  to  feel  in  all  its  importance,  the  part  assigned 
to  us  in  the  great  drama  of  human  affairs.  We  are  placed  at  the  head  of 
the  system  of  representative  and  popular  governments.  Thus  far  our  exam 
ple  shows  that  such  governments  are  compatible,  not  only  with  respectability 
and  power,  but  with  repose,  with  peace,  with  security  of  personal  rights,  with 
good  laws,  and  a  just  administration. 

We  are  not .  propagandists.  Wherever  other  systems  are  preferred,  either 
as  being  thought  better  in  themselves,  or  as  better  suited  to  existing  condition, 
we  leave  the  preference  to  be  enjoyed.  Our  history  hitherto  proves,  however, 
that  the  popular  form  is  practicable,  and  that  with  wisdom  and  knowledge 
men  may  govern  themselves ;  and  the  duty  incumbent  on  us  is,  to  preserve 
the  consistency  of  this  cheering  example,  and  take  care  that  nothing  may 
weaken  its  authority  with  the  world,  If,  in  our  case,  the  representative  sys 
tem  ultimately  fail,  popular  governments  must  be  pronounced  impossible.  No 
combination  of  circumstances  more  favorable  to  the  experiment  can  ever  be 
expected  to  occur.  The  last  hopes  of  mankind,  therefore,  rest  with  us;  and 
if  it  should  be  proclaimed,  that  our  example  had  become  an  argument 
against  the  experiment,  the  knell  of  popular  liberty  would  be  sounded  through 
out  the  earth. 

These  are  excitements  to  duty;  but  they  are  not  suggestions  of  doubt. 
Our  history  and  our  condition,  all  that  is  gone  before  us,  and  all  that  sur 
rounds  us,  authorize  the  belief,  that  popular  governments,  though  subject  to 
occasional  variations,  in  form  perhaps  not  always  for  the  better,  may  yet,  in 
their  general  character,  be  as  durable  and  permanent  as  other  systems.  We 
know,  indeed,  that  in  our  country  any  other  is  impossible.  The  principle 
of  free  governments  adheres  to  the  American  soil.  It  is  bedded  in  it,  immo 
vable  as  its  mountains. 

Ami  let  the  sacred  obligations  which  have  devolved  on  this  generation,  and 
on  us,  sink  deep  into  our  hearts.  Those  who  established  our  liberty  and  our 
government  are  daily  dropping  from  among  us.  The  great  trust  now  des-r 
cends  to  new  hands.  Let  us  apply  ourselves  to  that  which  is  presented  to  us, 
as  our  appropriate  object.  We  can  win  no  laurels  in  a  war  for  independence. 
Earlier  and  worthier  hands  have  gathered  them  all.  Nor  are  there  places  for 
us  by  the  side  of  Solon,  and  Alfred,  and  other  founders  of  states.  Our  fath 
ers  have  filled  them.  But  there  remains  to  us  a  great  duty  of  defence  and 


preservation ;  and  there  is  opened  to  us,  also,  a  noble  pursuit,  to  which  the 
spkiLofJhe  times  strongly  invites  us.^Qiir_^roper  business  is  improvement. 
Let  oiirTyfl  belfentge^ot  improvement  lja3^1oi  peace,  let  us  advance 


foe,  arts  of  peace  and  the  works  of  peace  ./Let  us  develope.the  resources  of 
"our'  land,  call  forthTts  powers,  "build  uplts  institutions,  promote,  all  its  great 
interests,  and  see  whether  we  also,  in_ourjday  and  generation,  may  not  perform 
Something  worthy  to  be  remembered.  Let  us  cultivate  a  true  spirit  of  union 


135 

and  harmony.  In  pursuing  the  great  objects  which  our  condition  points  uu*i 
to  us,' let  us  act  under  a  settled  conviction,  and  an  habitual  feeling,  that  these 
twenty-four  States  are_cme  country.  Let  our  conceptions  be  enlarged  to  the 
circle  of  our  duties.  Let  us  extend  our  ideas  over  the  whole  of  the  vast  neld 
in  which  we  are  called  to  act.  Let  our  object  be,  OUR  COUNTRY,  OUR  WHOLE 
COUNTRY,  AND  NOTHING  BUT  OUR  COUNTRY.  And,  by  the  blessing  of_God^ 
may  that  country  itself  become  a  vast  and  splendid  monument,  not  of  op 
pression  and  terror,  but  of  Wisdom,  of  Peace,  and  of  Liberty,  upon  which  +> 
world  may  gaze  with  admiration  for  ever  I_ 


MR,  HAYNE'S  SPEECH, 


DEBATE  IN  THE  SENATE  ON  MR.  FOOT'S  RESOLUTION,  THURSDAY 
JANUARY  21,  1830. 


MR.  FOOT'S  resolution  being  under  consideration, —  % 
[When  Mr.  WEBSTER  concluded  his  first  speech  on  Wednesday,  the  20th, 
Mr.  BENTON  followed  with  some  remarks  in  reply  to  Mr.  W.,  but  as  they 
were  principally  embodied  In  his  more  extended  speech  some  days  after, 
those  remarks  are  omitted.  On  the  day  following,  Mr.  HAYNE  took  the  floor 
in  the  following  rejoinder  to  Mr.  WEBSTER.] 

Mr.  HAYNE  said,  when  he  took  occasion,  two  days  ago,  to  throw  out 
some  ideas  with  respect  to  the  policy  of  the  government,  in  relation  to  the 
public  lands,  nothing  certainly  could  have  been  further  from  his  thoughts, 
than  that  he  should  have  been  compelled  again  to  throw  himself  upon  the 
indulgence  of  the  Senate.  Little  did  I  expect,  said  Mr.  H.,  to  be  called  upon 
to  meet  such  an  argument  as  was  yesterday  urged  by  the  gentleman  from 
Massachusetts,  (Mr.  Webster.)  Sir,  I  questioned  no  man's  opinions;  I  im 
peached  no  man's  motives ;  I  charged  no  party,  or  state,  or  section  of  country 
with  hostility  to  any  other,  but  ventured,  as  I  thought,  in  a  becoming  spirit, 
to  put  forth  my  own  sentiments  in  relation  to  a  great  national  question  of 
public  policy.  Such  was  my  course.  The  gentlemen  from  Missouri,  (Mr. 
Benton,)  it  is  true,  had  charged  upon  the  Eastern  States  an  early  and  con 
tinued  hostility  towards  the  west,  and  referred  to  a  number  of  historical  facts 
and  documents  in  support  of  that  charge.  Now,  sir,  how  have  these  differ 
ent  argument  been  met  ?  The  honorable  gentleman  from  Massachusetts,  after 
deliberating  a  whole  night  upon  his  course,  comes  into  this  chamber  to  vin 
dicate  New  England;  and  instead  of  making  up  his  issue  with  the  gentleman 
from  Missouri,  on  the  charges  which  he  had  preferred,  chooses  to  consider  me 
as  the  author  of  those  charges,  and  losing  sight  entirely  of  that  gentlemen, 
selects  me  as  his  adversary,  and  pours  out  all  the  vials  of  his  mighty  wrath 
upon  my  devoted  head.  Nor  is  he  willing  to  stop  there.  He  goes  on  to 
assail  the  institutions  and  policy  of  the  south,  and  calls  in  question  the  prin 
ciples  and  conduct  of  the  state  which  I  have  the  honor  to  represent.  When 
I  find  a  gentlemen  of  mature  age  and  experience,  of  acknowledged  talents 
and  profound  sagacity,  pursuing  a  course  like  this,  declining  the  contest 
offered  from  the  west,  and  making  war  upon  the  unoffending  south,  I  must 
believe,  I  am  bound  to  believe,  he  has  some  object  in  view  which  he  has  not 
ventured  to  disclose.  Mr.  President,  why  is  this  ?  Has  the  gentleman  dis 
covered  in  former  controversies  with  the  gentleman  from  Missouri,  that  he  is 
overmatched  by  that  senator  ?  And  does  he  hope  for  an  easy  victory  over 


138 

a  more  feeble  adversary  ?  Has  the  gentleman's  distempered  fancy  been  dis 
turbed  by  gloomy  forebodings  of  "  new  alliances  to  be  formed,"  at  which  he 
hinted?  Has  the  ghost  of  the  murdered  COALITION  come  back,  like  the 
ghost  of  Banquo,  to  "  sear  the  eyeballs  of  the  gentleman,"  and  will  it  not 
down  at  his  bidding  ?  Are  dark  visions  of  broken  hopes,  and  honors  lost 
forever,  still  floating  before  his  heated  imagination  ?  Sir,  if  it  be  his  object  to 
thurst  me  between  the  gentleman  from  Missouri  and  himself,  in  order  to 
rescue  the  east  from  the  contest  it  has  provoked  with  the  west,  he  shall  not 
be  gratified.  Sir,  I  will  not  be  dragged  into  the  defence  of  my  friend  from 
Missouri.  The  south  shall  not  be  forced  into  a  conflict  not  its  own.  The 
gentleman  from  Missouri  is  able  to  .fight  his  own  battles.  The  gallent  west 
needs  no  aid  from  the  south  to  repel  any  attack  which  may  be  made  on  them 
from  any  quarter.  Let  the  gentlemen  from  Massachusetts  controvert  the 
fact  and  arguments  of  the  gentleman  from  Missouri,  if  he  can  —  and  if 
he  win  the  victory,  let  him  wear  the  honors ;  I  shall  not  deprive  him  of  his. 
laurels. 

The  gentleman  from  Massachusetts,  in  reply  to  my  remarks  on  the  in 
jurious  operations  of  our  land  system  on  the  prosperity  of  the  west,  pro 
nounced  an  extravagant  eulogium  on  the  paternal  care  which  the  government 
had  extended  towards  the  west,  to  which  he  attributed  all  that  was  great  and 
excellent  in  the  present  condition  of  the  new  states.  The  language  ot  the 
gentleman  on  this  topic  fell  upon  my  ears  like  the  almost  forgotten  tones  of 
the  tory  leaders  of  the  British  Parliament,  at  the  commencement  of  the 
American  revolution.  They,  too,  discovered  that  the  colonies  had  grown 
great  under  the  fostering  care  of  the  mother  country ;  and  I  must  confess, 
while  listening  to  the  gentleman,  I  thought  the  appropriate  reply  to  his  argu 
ment  was  to  be  found  in  the  remark  of  a  celebrated  orator,  made  on  that 
occasion :  "  They  have  grown  great  in  spite  of  your  protection." 

The  gentleman,  in  commenting  on  the  policy  of  the  government  in  rela 
tion  to  the  new  states,  has  introduced  to.  our  notice  a  certain  Nathan  Dane, 
of  Massachusetts,  to  whom  he  attributes  the  celebrated  ordinance  of  '87,  by 
which  he  tells  us,  "  slavery  was  forever  excluded  from  the  new  states  north  of 
the  Ohio."  After  eulogizing  the  wisdom  of  this  provision  in  terms  of  the 
most  extravagant  praise,  he  breaks  forth  in  admiration  of  the  greatness  of 
Nathan  Dane  —  and  great  indeed  he  must  be,  if  it  be  true,  as  stated  by  the 
senator  from  Massachusetts,  that  "  he  was  greater  than  Solon  and  Lycurgus, 
Minos,  Numa  Pompilius,  and  all  the  legislators  and  philosophers  of  the  world," 
ancient  and  modern.  Sir,  to  such  high  authority  it  is  certainly  my  duty,  in 
a  becoming  spirit  of  humility,  to  submit.  And  yet,  the  gentleman  will  par 
don  me,  when  I  say,  that  it  is  a  little  unfortunate  for  the  fame  of  this  great 
legislator,  that  the  gentleman  from  Missouri  should  have  proved  that  he  was 
not  the  author  of  the  ordinance  of  '87,  on  which  the  senator  from  Massachu 
setts  has  reared  so  glorious  a  monument  to  his  name.  Sir,  I  doubt  not  the 
senator  will  feel  some  compassion  for  our  ignorance,  when  I  tell  him,  that  so 
little  are  we  acquainted  with  the  modern  great  men  of  New  England,  that 
until  he  informed  us  yesterday  that  we  possessed  a  Solon  and  a  Lycurgus  in 
the  person  of  Nathan  Dane,  he  was  only  known  to  the  south  as  a  member 
of  a  celebrated  assembly,  called  and  known  by  the  name  of  the  k'  Hartford 
Convention."  In  the  proceedings  of  that  assembly,  which  I  hold  in  my  hand, 
(at  p.  19,)  will  be  found,  in  a  few  lines,  the  history  of  Nathan  Dane;  and  a  little 
farther  on,  there  is  conclusive  evidence  of  that  ardent  devotion  to  the  interest 
of  the  new  states,  which  it  seems,  has  given  him  a  just  claim  to  the  title  of 


139 

"  Father  of  the  West."  By  the  2d  resolution  of  the  "  Hartford  Convention," 
it  is  declared,  "  that  it  is  expedient  to  attempt  to  make  provision  for  restraining 
Congress  in  ike  exercise  of  an  unlimited  power  to  make  new  states,  and  ad 
mitting  them  into  the  Union."  So  much  for  Nathan  Dane,  of  Beverly, 
Massachusetts. 

In  commenting  upon  my  views  in  relation  to  the  public  lands,  the  gentle 
man  insists,  that  it  being  one  of  the  conditions  of  the  grants  that  these  lands 
should  be  applied  to  "  the  common  benefit  of  all  the  states,  they  must  always 
remain  a  fund  for  revenue;"  and  adds,  "they,  must  be  treated  as  so  much 
treasure."  Sir,  the  gentleman  could  hardly  find  language  strong  enough  to 
convey  his  disapprobation  of  the  policy  which  I  have  ventured  to  recom 
mend  to  the  favorable  consideration  of  the  country.  And  what,  sir,  was  that 
policy,  and  what  is  the  difference  between  that  gentleman  and  myself  on  that 
subject  ?  I  threw  out  the  idea  that  the  public  lands  ought  not  to  be  reserved 
forever,  as  "  a  great  fund  for  revenue ;"  that  they  ought  not  to  be  "  treated  as  a 
great  treasure;'  but  that  the  course  of  our  policy  should  rather  be  directed 
towards  the  creation  of  new  states,  and  building  up  great  and  flourishing 
communities 

Now,  sir,  will  it  be  believed,  by  those  who  now  hear  me,  —  and  who 
listened  to  the  gentlemen's  denunciation  of  my  doctrines  yesterday,  —  that 
a  book  then  lay  open  before  him  —  nay,  that  he  held  it  in  his  hand,  and 
read  from  it  certain  passages  of  his  own  speech,  delivered  to  the  House  of 
Representatives  in  1825,  in  which  speech  he  himself  contended  for  the  very 
doctrines  I  had  advocated,  and  almost  in  the  same  terms  'I  Here  is  the 
speech  of  the  Hon.  Daniel  Webster,  contained  in  the  first  volume  of  Gales 
and  Seaton's  Register  of  Debates  (p.  251,)  delivered  in  the  House  of  Rep 
resentatives  on  the  18th  of  January,  1825,  in  a  debate  on  the  Cumberland 
road  —  the  very  debate  from  which  the  senator  read  yesterday.  I  shall  read 
from  the  celebrated  speech  two  passages,  from  which  it  will  appear  that  both 
as  to  the  past  and  the  future  policy  of  the  government  in  relation  to  the  pub 
lic  lands,  the  gentleman  from  Massachusetts  maintained,  in  1825,  substantially 
the  same  opinions  which  I  have  advanced,  but  which  he  now  so  strongly 
reprobates.  I  said,  sir,  that  the  system  of  credit  sales  by  which  the  west  had 
been  kept  constantly  in  debt  to  the  United  States,  and  by  which  their  wealth 
was  drained  off  to  be  expended  elsewhere,  had  operated  injuriously  on  their 
prosperity.  On  this  point  the  gentleman  from  Massachusetts,  in  January, 
1825,  expressed  himself  thus:  "  There  could  be  no  doubt,  if  gentlemen  looked 
at  the  money  received  into  the  traasury  from  the  sale  of  the  public  lands  to 
the  west,  and  then  looked  to  the  whole  amount  expended  by  government, 
(even  including  the  whole  amount  of  what  was  laid  out  for  the  army,)  the 
latter  must  be  allowed  to  be  very  inconsiderable,  and  there  must  be  a  con 
stant  drain  of  money  from  the  west  to  pay  for  the  public  lands.  It  might 
indeed  be  said  that  this  was  no  more  than  the  refluence  of  capital  which  had 
previously  gone  over  the  mountains.  Be  it  so.  Still  its  practical  effect  was 
to  produce  inconvenience,  if  not  distress,  by  absorbing  the  money  of  the 
people" 

I  contend  that  the  public  lands  ought  not  to  be  treated  merely  as  "  a 
fund  for  revenue ;"  that  they  ought  not  to  be  hoarded  "  as  a  great  treasure." 
On  this  point  the  senator  expressed  himself  thus:  "  Government,  he  believed, 
had  received  eighteen  or  twenty  millions  of  dollars  from  the  public  lands, 
and  it  was  with  the  greatest  satisfaction  he  adverted  to  the  change  which  had 
been  introduced  in  the  mode  of  paying  for  them ;  yet  he  could  never  think 


140 

the  national  domain  was  to  he  regarded,  as  any  great  source  of  revenue. 
The  great  object  of  the  government,  in  respect  of  these  lands,  was  not  so 
much  the  money  derived  from  their  sale,  as  it  was  the  getting  them  settled. 
What  he  meant  to  say  was,  he  did  not  think  they  ought  to  hug  that  domain 
AS  A  GREAT  TREASURE,  which  ivcis  to  enrich  the  Exchequer? 

Now,  Mr.  President,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  very  doctrines  which  the 
gentleman  so  indignantly  abandons  were  urged  by  him  in  1825 ;  and  if  I  had 
actually  borrowed  my  sentiments  from  those  which  he  then  avowed,  I  could 
not  have  followed  more  closely  in  his  footsteps.  Sir,  it  is  only  since  the 
gentleman  quoted  this  book,  yesterday,  that  my  attention  has  been  turned  to 
the  sentiments  he  expressed  in  1825 ;  and  if  I  had  remembered  them,  I  might 
possibly  have  been  deterred  from  uttering  sentiments  here,  which,  it  might 
well  be  supposed,  I  had  borrowed  from  that  gentleman. 

In  1825,  the  gentleman  told  the  world  that  the  public  lands  "ought  not 
to  be  treated  as  a  treasure."  He  now  tells  us  that  "  they  must  be  treated  as 
so  much  treasure."  What  the  deliberate  opinion  of  the  gentleman  on  this 
subject  may  be,  belongs  not  to  me  to  determine;  but  I  do  not  think  he  can, 
with  the  shadow  of  justice  or  propriety,  impugn  my  sentiments,  while  his 
own  recorded  opinions  are  identical  with  my  own.  When  the  gentleman 
refers  to  the  conditions  of  the  grants  under  which  the  United  States  have 
acquired  these  lands,  and  insists  that,  as  they  are  declared  to  be  "  for  the 
common  benefit  tof  all  the  states,"  they  can  only  be  treated  as  so  much 
treasure,  I  think  he  has  applied  a  rule  of  construction  too  narrow  for  the 
case.  If  in  the  deeds  of  cession  it  has  been  declared  that  the  grants  were 
intended  for  u  the  common  benefit  of  all  the  states,"  it  is  clear,  from  other  pro 
visions,  that  they  were  not  intended  merely  as  50  much  property;  for  it  is 
expressly  declared,  that  the  object  of  the  grants  is  the  erection  of  new  states; 
and  the  United  States,  in  accepting  this  trust,  bind  themselves  to  facilitate 
the  foundation  of  these  states,  to  be  admitted  into  the  Union  with  all  the 
rights  and  privileges  of  the  original  states.  This,  sir,  was  the  great  end  to 
which  all  parties  looked,  and  it  is  by  the  fulfilment  of  this  high  trust  that 
"  the  common  benefit  of  all  the  states"  is  to  be  best  promoted.  Sir,  let  me 
tell  the  gentleman,  that  in  the  part  of  the  country  in  which  I  live,  we  do  not 
measure  political  benefits  by  the  money  standard.  We  consider  as  more 
valuable  than  gold,  liberty,  principle,  and  justice.  But,  sir,  if  we  are  bound 
to  act  on  the  narrow  principles  contended  for  by  the  gentleman,  I  am  wholly 
at  a  loss  to  conceive  how  he  can  reconcile  his  principles  with  his  own  practice. 
The  lands  are,  it  seems,  to  be  treated  "  as  so  much  treasure,"  and  must  be 
applied  to  the  "  common  benefit  of  all  the  states."  Now,  if  this  be  so,  whence 
does  he  derive  the  right  to  appropriate  them  for  partial  and  local  objects  ? 
How  can  the  gentleman  consent  to  vote  away  immense  bodies  of  these  lands, 
for  canals  in  Indiana  and  Illinois,  to  the  Louisville  and  Portland  Canal,  to 
Kenyon  College  in  Ohio,  to  Schools  for  the  Deaf  and  Dumb,  and  other 
objects  of  a  similar  description  ?  If  grants  of  this  character  can  fairly  be 
considered  as  made  "  for  the  common  benefit  of  all  the  states,"  it  can  only 
be,  because  all  the  states  are  interested  in  the  welfare  of  each — a  principle 
which,  carried  to  the  full  extent,  destroys  all  distinction  between  local  and 
national  objects,  and  is  certainly  broad  enough  to  embrace  the  principles  for 
which  I  have  ventured  to  contend.  Sir,  the  true  difference  between  us  I 
take  to  be  this :  the  gentleman  wishes  to  treat  the  public  lands  as  a  great 
treasure,  just  as  so  much  money  in  the  treasury,  to  be  applied  to  all  objects, 
constitutional  and  unconstitutional,  to  which  the  public  money  is  constantly 


141 

applied.     I  consider  it  as  a  sacred  trust  which  we  ought  to  fulfil,  on  the  prin 
ciples  for  whicn  I  have  contended. 

The  senator  from  Massachusetts  has  thought  proper  to  present,  in  strong 
contrast,  the  friendly  feelings  of  the  east  towards  the  west,  with  sentiments 
of  an  opposite  character  displayed  by  the  south  in  relation  to  appropriations 
for  internal  improvements.  Now,  sir,  let  it  be  recollected  that  the  south  have 
made  no  professions;  I  have  certainly  made  none  in  their  behalf,  of  re 
gard  for  the  west,  It  has  been  reserved  for  the  gentleman  from  Massachu 
setts,  while  he  vaunts  over  his  own  personal  devotion  to  western  interests,  to 
claim  for  the  entire  section  of  country  to  which  he  belongs  an  ardent  friend 
ship  for  the  west,  as  manifested  by  their  support  of  the  system  of  internal 
improvement,  while  he  caste  in  our  teeth  the  reproach  that  the  south  has 
manifested  hostility  to  western  interests  in  opposing  appropriations  for  such 
objects.  That  gentleman,  at  the  same  time,  acknowledged  that  the  south 
entertains  constitutional  scruples  on  this  subject.  Are  we  then,  sir,  to 
understand  that  the  gentleman  considers  it  a  just  subject  of  reproach  that  we 
respect  our  oaths,  by  which  we  are  bound  "to  preserve,  protect,  and 
defend  the  constitution  of  the  United  States  ? "  "Would  the  gentleman  have 
us  manifest  our  love  to  the  west  by  trampling  under  foot  our  constitutional 
scruples  ?  Does  he  not  perceive,  if  the  south  is  to  be  reproached  with  un 
kind  ness  to  the  west,  in  voting  against  appropriations  which  the  gentleman 
admits  they  could  not  vote  for  without  doing  violence  to  their  constitutional 
opinions,  that  he  exposes  himself  to  the  question,  whether,  if  he  was  in  our 
situation,  he  could  vote  for  these  appropriations,  regardless  of  his  scruples  ? 
No,  sir,  I  will  not  do  the  gentleman  so  great  injustice.  He  has  fallen  into 
this  error  from  not  having  duly  weighed  the  force  and  effect  of  the  reproach 
which  he  was  endeavoring  to  cast  upon  the  south.  In  relation  to  the  other 
point,  the  friendship  manifested  by  New  England  towards  the  west,  in  their 
support  of  the  system  of  internal  improvement,  the  gentleman  will  pardon 
me  for  saying,  that  I  think  he  is  equally  unfortunate  in  having  introduced 
that  topic.  As  that  gentleman  has  forced  it  upon  us,  however,  I  cannot 
suffer  it  to  pass  unnoticed.  When  the  gentleman  tells  us  that  the  appropria 
tions  for  internal  improvement  in  the  west  would,  in  almost  every  instance, 
have  failed  but  for  New  England  votes,  he  has  forgotten  to  tell  us  the  when, 
the  how,  and  the  wherefore  this  new-born  zeal  for  the  west  sprung  up  in  th« 
bosom  of  New  England.  If  we  look  back  only  a  few  years,  we  will  find  in 
both  houses  of  Congress  a  uniform  and  steady  opposition  on  the  part  of  the 
members  from  the  Eastern  States,  generally,  to  all  the  appropriations  of  this 
character.  At  the  time  I  became  a  member  of  this  house,  and  for  some 
time  afterwards,  a  decided  majority  of  the  New  England  senators  were 
opposed  to  the  very  measures  which  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  tells  us 
they  now  cordially  support.  Sir,  the  Journals  are  before  me,  and  an  ex 
amination  of  them  will  satisfy  every  gentleman  of  that  fact. 

It  must  be  well  known  to  every  one  whose  experience  dates  back  as  far  as 
1825,  that  up  to  a  certain  period,  New  England  was  generally  opposed  to 
appropriations  for  internal  improvements  in  the  west.  The  gentleman  from 
Massachusetts  may  be  himself  an  exception,  but  if  he  went  for  the  system 
before  1 825,  it  is  certain  that  his  colleagues  did  not  go  with  him. 

In  the  session  of  1824  and  '25,  however,  (a  memorable  era  in  the  history 
of  this  country,)  a  wonderful  change  took  place  in  New  England,  in  relation 
to  western  interests.  Sir,  an  extraordinary  union  of  sympathies  and  of  in 
terests  was  then  effected,  which  brought  the  east  and  the  west  into  close 


142 

alliance.  The  book  from  which  I  have  before  read  contains  the  first  public 
annunciation  of  that  happy  reconciliation  of  conflicting  interests,  personal  and 
political,  which  brought  the  east  and  west  together,  and  locked  in  a  fraternal 
embrace  the  two  great  orators  of  the  east  and  west.  Sir,  it  was  on  the  1 8th 
January,  1825,  while  the  result  of  the  presidential  election,  in  the  Hous6  of 
Representatives  was  still  doubtful,  while  the  whole  country  was  looking  with 
intense  anxiety  to  that  legislative  hall  where  the  mighty  drama  was  so  soon  to 
be  acted,  that  we  saw  the  leaders  of  two  great  parties  in  the  house  and  in  the 
nation,  "  taking  sweet  counsel  together,"  and  in  a  celebrated  debate  on  the 
Cumberland  road,  righting  side  by  side  for  western  interests.  It  was  on 
that  memorable  occasion  that  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  held  out  the 
white  flag  to  the  west,  and  uttered  those  liberal  sentiments  which  he  yester 
day  so  indignantly  repudiated.  Then  it  was,  that  that  happy  union  between 
the  members  of  the  celebrated  coalition  was  consummated,  whose  immediate 
issue  was  a  president  from  one  quarter  of  the  Union,  with  the  succession  (as 
it  was  supposed)  secured  to  another.  The  "  American  system,"  before  a  rude, 
disjointed,  and  mishapen  mass,  now  assumed  form  and  consistency.  Then  it 
was  that  it  became  "  the  settled  policy  of  the  government,"  that  this  system 
should  be  so  administered  as  to  create  a  reciprocity  of  interests  and  a  recipro 
cal  distribution  of  government  favors,  east  and  west,  (the  tariff  and  internal 
improvements,)  while  the  south  —  yes,  sir,  the  impracticable  south  —  was  to 
be  "out  of  your  protection."  The  gentleman  may  as  boast  much  as  he  pleases  of 
the  friendship  of  New  England  for  the  west,  as  displayed  in  their  support  of 
internal  improvement;  but  when  he  next  introduces  that  topic,  I  trust  that 
he  will  tell  us  when  that  friendship  commenced,  how  it  was  brought  about, 
and  why  it  was  established.  Before  I  leave  this  topic,  I  must  be  permitted  to 
say  that  the  true  character  of  the  policy  now  pursued  by  the  gentleman  from 
Massachusetts  and  his  friends,  in  relation  to  appropriations  of  land  and  money, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  west,  is  in  my  estimation  very  similar  to  that  pursued 
by  Jacob  of  old  toward  his  brother  Esau :  "  it  robs  them  of  their  birthright 
for  a  mess  of  pottage." 

The  gentleman  from  Massachusetts,  in  alluding  to  a  remark  of  mine, 
that  before  any  disposition  could  be  made  of  the  public  lands,  the  national 
debt  (for  which  they  stand  pledged)  must  be  first  paid,  took  occasion  to  in 
timate  "  that  the  extraordinary  fervor  which  seems  to  exist  in  a  certain 
quarter,  (meaning  the  south,  sir,)  for  the  payment  of  the  debt,  arises  from  a 
disposition  to  weaken  the  ties  which  bind  the  people  to  the  Union"  While 
the  gentleman  deals  us  this  blow,  he  professes  an  ardent  desire  to  see  the  debt 
speedily  extinguished.  He  must  excuse  me,  however,  for  feding  some  distrust 
on  that  subject  until  I  find  this  disposition  manifested  by  something  stronger 
than  professions.  I  shall  look  for  acts,  decided  and  unequivocal  acts;  for  the 
performance  of  which  an  opportunity  will  very  soon  (if  I  am  not  greatly 
mistaken)  be  afforded.  Sir,  if  I  were  at  liberty  to  judge  of  the  course  which 
that  gentleman  would  pursue,  from  the  principles  which  he  has  laid  down  in 
relation  to  this  matter,  I  should  be  bound  to  conclude  that  he  will  be  found 
acting  with  those  with  whom  it  is  a  darling  object  to  prevent  the  payment 
of  the  public  debt.  He  tells  us  he  is  desirous  of  paying  the  debt,  "  because 
we  are  under  an  obligation  to  discharge  it."  Now,  sir,  suppose  it  should 
happen  that  the  public  creditors,  with  whom  we  have  contracted  the  obligation, 
should  release  us  from  it,  so  far  as  to  declare  their  willingness  to  wait  for  pay 
ment  for  fifty  years,  provided  only  the  interest  shall  be  punctually  discharged. 
The  gentleman  from  Massachusetts  will  then  be  released  from  the  obligation 


143 

winch  now  makes  him  desirous  of  paying  the  debt ;  and,  let  me  tell  the  gentle 
man,  the  holders  of  the  stock  will  not  only  release  us  from  this  obligation, 
but  they  will  implore,  nay,  they  will  even  pay  us  not  to  pay  them.  But, 
adds  the  gentleman,  so  far  as  the  debt  may  have  an  effect  in  binding  the  debtors 
to  the  country,  and  thereby  serving  as  a  link  to  hold  the  states  together,  he 
would  be  glad  that  it  should  exist  forever.  Surely  then,  sir,  on  the  gentle 
man's  own  principles,  he  must  be  opposed  to  the  payment  of  the  debt. 

Sir,  let  me  tell  that  gentleman,  that  the  South  repudiates  the  idea  that  a 
pecuniary  dependence  on  the  federal  government  is  one  of  the  legitimate 
means  of  holding  the  states  together.  A  moneyed  interest  in  the  government 
is  essentially  a  base  interest;  and  just  so  far  as  it  operates  to  bind  the  feelings 
of  those  who  are  subjected  to  it  to  the  government — just  so  far  as  it  operates 
in  creating  sympathies  and  interests  that  would  not  otherwise  exist,  —  is  it 
opposed  to  all  the  principles  of  free  government,  and  at  war  with  virtue  and 
patriotism.  Sir,  the  link  which  binds  the  public  creditors,  as  such,  to  their 
country,  binds  them  equally  to  all  governments,  whether  arbitrary  or  free.  In 
a  free  government,  this  principle  of  abject  dependence,  if  extended  through 
all  the  ramifications  of  society,  must  be  fatal  to  liberty.  Already  have  we 
made  alarming  strides  in  that  direction.  The  entire  class  of  manufacturers, 
the  holders  of  stocks,  with  their  hundreds  of  millions  of  capital,  are  held  to 
the  government  by  the  strong  link  of  pecuniary  interests;  millions  of  people 

—  entire  sections  of  country,  interested  or  believing  themselves  to  be  so,  in 
the  public  lands,  and  the  public  treasure  —  are  bound  to  the  government  by 
the  expectation  of  pecuniary  favoi  s.     If  this  system  is  carried  much  further, 
no  man  can  fail  to  see  that  every  generons  motive  of  attachment  to  the  coun 
try  will  be  destroyed,  and  in  its  place  will  spring  up  those  low,  grovelling,  base 
and  selfish  feelings  which  bind  men  to  the  footstool  of  a  despot  by  bonds  as 
strong  and  enduring  as  those  which  attach  them  to  free  institutions.     Sir,  I 
would  lay  the  foundation  of  this  government  in  the  affections  of  the  people 

—  I  would  teach  them  to  cling  to  it  by  dispensing  equal  justice,  and  above 
all,  by  securing  the  "  blessings  of  liberty"  to  "  themselves  and  to  their  posterity." 

The  honorable  gentleman  from  Massachusetts  has  gone  out  of  his  way  to 
pass  a  high  eulogium  on  the  state  of  OHIO.  In  the  most  impassioned  tones 
of  eloquence,  he  described  her  majestic  march  to  greatness.  He  told  us,  that, 
having  already  left  all  the  other  states  far  behind,  she  was  now  passing  by 
Virginia  and  Pennsylvania,  and  about  to  take  her  station  by  the  side  of  New 
York.  To  all  this,  sir,  I  was  disposed  most  cordially  to  respond.  When, 
however,  the  gentleman  proceeded  to  contrast  the  state  of  Ohio  with  Ken 
tucky,  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  latter,  I  listened  to  him  with  regret ;  and 
when  he  proceeded  further  to  attribute  the  great,  and,  as  he  supposed,  acknow 
ledged  superiority  of  the  former  in  population,  wealth,  and  general  prosperity, 
to  the  policy  of  Nathan  Dane,  of  Massachusetts,  which  had  secured  to  the 
people  of  Ohio  (by  the  ordinance  of  '87)  a  population  of  freemen,  I  will 
confess  that  my  feelings  suffered  a  revulsion  which  I  am  now  unable  to  describe 
in  any  language  sufficiently  respectful  towards  the  gentleman  from  Massachu 
setts.  In  contrasting  the  state  of  Ohio  with  Kentucky,  for  the  purpose  of 
pointing,  out  the  superiority  of  the  former,  and  of  attributing  that  superiority 
to  the  existence  of  slavery  in  the  one  state,  and  its  absence  in  the  other,  I 
thought  I  could  discern  the  very  spirit  of  the  Missouri  question,  intruded 
into  this  debate,  for  objects  best  known  to  the  gentleman  himself.  Did  that 
gentleman,  sir,  when  he  formed  the  determination  to  cross  the  southern  border, 
in  order  to  invade  the  state  of  South  Carolina,  deem  it  prudent  or  necessary 


144 

to  enlist  under  his  banners  the  prejudices  of  the  world,  which,  like  Swiss 
troops,  may  be  engaged  in  any  cause,  and  are  prepared  to  serve  under  any 
leader  ?  Did  he  desire  to  avail  himself  of  those  remorseless  allies,  ike  pas 
sions  of  mankind,  of  which  it  may  be  more  truly  said  than  of  the  savage 
tribes  of  the  wilderness,  "  that  their  known  rule  of  warfare  is  an  indiscriminate 
slaughter  of  all  ages,  sexes,  and  conditions"  ?  Or  was  it  supposed,  sir,  that  in 
a  premeditated  and  unprovoked  attack  upon  the  south,  it  was  advisable  to 
begin  by  a  gentle  admonition  of  our  supposed  weakness,  in  order  to  prevent 
us  from  making  that  firm  and  manly  resistance  due  to  our  own  character  and 
our  dearest  interests?  Was  the  significant  hint  of  the  weakness  of  slave- 
holding  states,  when  contrasted  with  the  superior  strength  of  free  states, — 
like  the  glare  of  the  weapon  half  drawn  from  its  scabbard,  —  intended  to 
enforce  the  lessons  of  prudence  and  of  patriotism,  which  the  gentleman  had 
resolved,  out  of  his  abundant  generosity,  gratuitously  to  bestow  upon  us  ?  Mr. 
President,  the  impression  which  has  gone  abroad  of  the  weakness  of  the 
sout/i,  as  connected  with  the  slave  question,  exposes  us  to  such  constant  attacks, 
has  done  us  so  much  injury,  and  is  calculated  to  produce  such  infinite  mis 
chiefs,  that  I  embrace  the  occasion  presented  by  the  remarks  of  the  gentleman 
of  Massachusetts,  to  declare  that  we  are  ready  to  meet  the  question  promptly 
and  fearlessly.  It  is  one  from  which  we  are  not  disposed  to  shrink,  in  what 
ever  form  or  under  whatever  circumstances  it  may  be  pressed  upon  us. 

We  are  ready  to  make  up  the  issue  with  the  gentleman,  as  to  the  influence 
of  slavery  on  individual  or  national  character  —  on  the  prosperity  and  great 
ness,  either  of  the  United  States  or  of  particular  states.  Sir,  when  arraigned 
before  the  bar  of  public  opinion,  on  this  charge  of  slavery,  we  can  stand  up 
with  conscious  rectitude,  plead  not  guilty,  and  put  ourselves  upon  God  and 
our  country.  Sir,  we  will  not  consent  to  look  at  slavery  in  the  abstract.  We 
will  not  stop  to  inquire  whether  the  black  man,  as  some  philosophers  have 
contended,  is  of  an  inferior  race,  nor  whether  his  color  and  condition  are  the 
effects  of  a  curse  inflicted  for  the  offences  of  his  ancestors.  We  deal  in  no 
abstractions.  We  will  not  look  back  to  inquire  whether  our  fathers  were 
guiltless  in  introducing  slaves  into  this  country.  If  an  inquiry  should  ever 
be  instituted  in  these  matters,  however,  it  will  be  found  that  the  profits  of  the 
slave  trade  were  not  confined  to  the  south.  Southern  ships  and  southern  sail 
ors  were  not  the  instruments  of  bringing  slaves  to  the  shores  of  America,  nor 
lid  our  merchants  reap  the  profit  of  that  "  accursed  traffic."  But,  sir,  we  will 
pass  over  all  this.  If  slavery,  as  it  now  exists  in  this  country,  be  an  evil,  we 
of  the  present  day  found  it  ready  made  to  our  hands.  Finding  our  lot  cast 
among  a  people  whom  God  had  manifestly  committed  to  our  care,  we  did  not 
sit  down  to  speculate  on  abstract  questions  of  theoretical  liberty.  We  met  it 
as  a  practical  question  of  obligation  and  duty.  We  resolved  to  make  the  best 
of  the  situation  in  which  Providence  had  placed  us,  and  to  fulfil  the  high 
trusts  which  had  devolved  upon  us  as  the  owners  of  slaves,  in  the  only  way  in 
which  such  a  trust  could  be  fulfilled,  without  spreading  misery  aocl  ruin 
ihroughout  the  land.  We  found  that  we  had  to  deal  with  a  people  whose 
physical,  moral,  and  intellectual  habits  and  character  totally  disqualified  them 
from  the  enjoyment  of  the  blessings  of  freedom.  We  could  not  send  them 
back  to  the  shores  from  whence  their  fathers  had  been  taken ;  their  numbers 
forbade  the  thought,  even  if  we  did  not  know  that  their  condition  here  is 
infinitely  preferable  to  what  it  possibly  could  be  among  the  barren  sands  and 
savage  tribes  of  Africa ;  and  it  was  wholly  irreconcilable  with  all  our  notions 
of  humanity  to  tear  asunder  the  tender  ties  which  they  had  formed  among  us, 


145 

to  gratify  the  feelings  of  a  false  philanthropy.  What  a  commentary  on  the 
wisdom,  justice,  and  humanity  of  the  southern  slave  owner  is  presented  by  the 
example  of  certain  benevolent  associations  and  charitable  individuals  elsewhere! 
Shedding  weak  tears  over  sufferings  which  had  existence  in  their  own  sickly 
imaginations,  these  "friends  of  humanity"  set  themselves  systematically  to 
work  to  seduce  the  slaves  of  the  south  from  their  masters.  By  means  of  mis 
sionaries  and  political  tracts,  the  scheme  was  in  a  great  measure  successful. 
Thousands  of  these  deluded  victims  of  fanaticism  were  seduced  into  the  enjoy 
ment  of  freedom  in  our  northern  cities.  And  what  has  been  the  consequence  ? 
Go  to  these  cities  now  and  ask  the  question.  Visit  the  dark  and  narrow  lanes, 
and  obscure  recesses,  which  have  been  assigned  by  common  consent  as  the 
abodes  of  those  outcasts  of  the  world,  the  free  people  of  color.  Sir,  there 
does  not  exist,  on  the  face  of  the  whole  earth,  a  population  so  poor,  so  wretched, 
so  vile,  so  loathsome,  so  utterly  destitute  of  all  the  comforts,  conveniences,  and 
decencies  of  life,  as  the  unfortunate  blacks  of  Philadelphia,  and  New  York, 
and  Boston,  Liberty  has  been  to  them  the  greatest  of  calamities,  the  heaviest 
of  curses.  Sir,  I  have  had  some  opportunities  of  making  comparison  between 
the  condition  of  the  free  negroes  of  the  north  and  the  slaves  of  the  south,  and 
the  comparison  has  left  not  only  an  indelible  impression  of  the  superior  advan 
tages  of  the  latter,  but  has  gone  far  to  reconcile  me  to  slavery  itself.  Never 
have  I  felt  so  forcibly  that  touching  description,  "  the  foxes  have  holes,  and 
the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests,  but  the  Son  of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his 
head,"  as  when  I  have  seen  this  unhappy  race,  naked  and  houseless,  almost 
starving  in  the  streets,  and  abandoned  by  all  the  world.  Sir,  I  have  seen  in 
the  neighborhood  of  one  of  the  most'  moral,  religious,  and  refined  cities  of  the 
north,  a  family  of  free  blacks,  driven  to  the  caves  of  the  rocks,  and  there  ob 
taining  a  precarious  subsistence  from  charity  and  plunder. 

When  the  gentleman  from  Massachusetts  adopts  and  reiterates  the  old  charge 
of  weakness  as  resulting  from  slavery,  I  must  be  permitted  to  call  for  the  proof 
of  those  blighting  effects  which  he  ascribes  to  its  influence.  I  suspect  that 
when  the  subject  is  closely  examined,  it  will  be  found  that  there  is  not  much 
force  even  in  the  plausible  objection  of  the  want  of  physical  power  in  slave- 
holding  states.  The  power  of  a  country  is  compounded  of  its  population  and 
its  wealth,  and  in  modern  times,  where,  from  the  very  form  and  structure  of 
society,  by  far  the  greater  portion  of  the  people  must,  even  during  the  con 
tinuance  of  the  most  desolating  wars,  be  employed  in  the  cultivation  of  the 
soil  and  other  peaceful  pursuits,  it  may  be  well  doubted  whether  slaveholding 
states,  by  reason  of  the  superior  value  of  their  productions,  are  not  able  to 
maintain  a  number  of  troops  in  the  field  fully  equal  to  what  could  be  supported 
by  states  with  a  larger  white  population,  but  not  possessed  of  equal  .resources. 

It  is  a  popular  error  to  suppose  that,  in  any  possible  state  of  things,  the 
people  of  a  country  could  ever  be  called  out  en  masse,  or  that  a  half,  or  a 
third,  or  even  a  fifth  part  of  the  physical  force  of  any  country  could  ever  be 
brought  into  the  field.  The  difficulty  is,  not  to  procure  men,  but  to  provide 
the  means  of  maintaining  them;  and  in  this  view  of  the  subject,  it  may  be 
asked  whether  the  Southern  States  are  not  a  source  of  strength  and  power,  and 
not  of  weakness  to  the  country  —  whether  they  have  not  contributed,  and  are 
not  now  contributing,  largely  to  the  wealth  and  prosperity  of  every  state  in 
this  Union.  From  a  statement  which  I  hold  in  my  hand,  it  appears  that  in 
ten  years  —  from  1818  to  182V,  inclusive  —  the  whole  amount  of  the  domes 
tic  exports  of  the  United  States  was  $521,811,045;  of  which  three  articles, 
(the  product  of  slave  labor,)  viz.,  cotton,  rice,  and  tobacco,  amounted  to 


146 

$339,203,232  —  equal  to  about  two  thirds  of  the  whole.  It  is  not  true,  as 
has  been  supposed,  that  the  advantage  of  this  labor  is  confined  almost  exclu 
sively  to  the  Southern  States.  Sir,  I  am  thoroughly  convinced  that,  at  this 
time,  the  states  north  of  the  Potomac  actually  derive  greater  profits  from  the 
labor  of  our  slaves  than  we  do  ourselves.  It  appears  from  our  public  docu 
ments,  that  in  seven  years  —  from  1821  to  1827,  inclusive  —  the  six  Southern 
States  exported  $190,337,281,  and  imported  only  $55,646,301.  Now,  the 
difference  between  these  two  sums  (near  $140,000,000)  passed  through  the 
hands  of  the  northern  merchants,  and  enabled  them  to  carry  on  their  com 
mercial  operations  with  all  the  world.  Such  part  of  these  goods  as  found  its 
way  back  to  our  hands  came  charged  with  the  duties,  as  well  as  the  profits,  of 
the  merchant,  the  ship  owner,  and  a  host  of  others,  who  found  employment  in 
carrying  on  these  immense  exchanges;  and  for  such  part  as  was  consumed  at 
the  north,  we  received  in  exchange  northern  manufactures,  charged  with  an 
increased  price,  to  cover  all  the  taxes  which  the  northern  consumer  had  been 
compelled  to  pay  on  the  imported  article.  It  will  be  seen,  therefore,  at  a  glance, 
how  much  slave  labor  has  contributed  to  the  wealth  and  prosperity  of  the  Uni 
ted  States,  and  how  largely  our  northern  brethren  have  participated  in  the 
profits  of  that  labor.  Sir,  on  this  subject  I  will  quote  an  authority,  which  will, 
I  doubt  not,  be  considered  by  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  as  entitled  to 
high  icspect.  It  is  from  the  great  father  of  the  "American  System,"  honest 
Matthew  Carey  —  no  great  friend,  it  is  true,  at  this  time,  to  southern  rights 
and  southern  interests,  but  not  the  worst  authority  on  that  account,  on  the  point 
in  question. 

Speaking  of  the  relative  importance  to  the  Union  of  the  SOUTHERN  and 
the  EASTERN  STATES,  Matthew  Carey,  in  the  sixth  edition  of  his  Olive  Branch, 
(p.  278,)  after  exhibiting  a  number  of  statistical  tables  to  show  the  decided 
superiority  of  the  former,  thus  proceeds:  — 

"  But  1  am  tired  of  this  investigation  —  I  sicken  for  the  honor  of  the  human 
species.  What  idea  must  the  world  form  of  the  arrogance  of  the  pretensions 
of  the  one  side,  [the  east]  and  of  the  folly  and  weakness  of  the  rest  of  the 
Union,  to  have  so  long  suffered  them  to  pass  without  exposure  and  detection. 
The  naked  fact  is,  that  the  demagogues  in  the  Eastern  States,  not  satisfied  with 
deriving  all  the  benefit  from  the  southern  section  of  the  Union  that  they 
would  from  so  many  wealthy  colonies  —  with  making  princely  fortunes  by 
the  carriage  and  exportation  of  its  bulky  and  valuable  productions,  and  sup 
plying  it  with  their  own  manufactures,  and  the  productions  of  Europe  and 
the  East  and  West  Indies,  to  an  enormous  amount,  and  at  an  immense  profit, 
have  uniformly  treated  it  with  outrage,  insult,  and  injury.  And,  regardless  of 
their  vital  interests,  the  Eastern  States  were  lately  courting  their  own  destruc 
tion,  by  allowing  a  few  restless,  turbulent  men  to  lead  them  blindfolded  to  a 
separation  which  was  pregnant  with  their  certain  ruin.  Whenever  that  event 
takes  place,  they  sink  into  insignificance.  If  a  separation  were  desirable  to  any 
part  of  the  Union,  it  would  be  to  the  Middle  and  Southern  States,  particularly 
the  latter,  who  have  been  so  long  harassed  with  the  complaints,  the  restlessness, 
the  turbulence,  and  the  ingratitude  of  the  Eastern  States,  that  their  patience 
has  been  tried  almost  beyond  endurance.  'Jeshurun  waxed  fat  and  kicked*  — 
and  he  will  be  severely  punished  for  his  kicking,  in  the  event  of  a  dissolution 
of  the  Union."  Sir,  I  wish  it  to  be  distinctly  understood  that  I  do  not  adopt 
these  sentiments  as  my  own.  I  quote  them  to  show  that  very  different  senti 
ments  have  prevailed  in  former  times  as  to  the  weakness  of  the  slaveholding 
states  from  those  which  now  seem,  to  "have  become  fashionable  in  certain  quar- 


147 

ters.  I  know  it  has  been  supposed  by  certain  ill-informed  persons,  that  the 
south  exists  only  by  the  countenance  and  protection  of  the  north.  Sir,  this  is 
the  idlest  of  all  idle  and  ridiculous  fancies  that  ever  entered  into  the  mind  of 
man.  In  every  state  of  this  Union,  except  one,  the  free  white  population 
actually  preponderates ;  while  in  the  British  West  India  Islands,  (where  the 
average  white  population  is  less  than  ten  per  cent,  of  the  whole?)  the  slaves 
are  kept  in  entire  subjection ;  it  is  preposterous  to  suppose  that  the  Southern 
States  could  ever  find  the  smallest  difficulty  in  this  respect.  On  this  subject, 
as  in  all  others,  we  ask  nothing  of  our  northern  brethren  but  to  "  let  us  alone." 
Leave  us  to  the  undisturbed  management  of  our  domestic  concerns,  and  the 
direction  of  our  own  industry,  and  we  will  ask  no  more.  Sir,  all  our  difficul 
ties  on  this  subject  have  arisen  from  interference  from  abroad,  which  has  dis 
turbed,  and  may  again  disturb,  our  domestic  tranquillity  just  so  far  as  to  bring 
down  punishment  upon  the  heads  of  the  unfortunate  victims  of  a  fanatical  and 
mistaken  humanity. 

There  is  a  spirit,  which,  like  the  father  of  evil  is  constantly  "walking  to  and 
fro  about  the  earth,  seeking  whom  it  may  devour :"  it  is  the  spirit  of  FALSE 
PHILANTHROPY.  The  persons  whom  it  possesses  do  not  indeed  throw  them 
selves  into  the  flames,  but  they  are  employed  in  lighting  up  the  torches  of  dis 
cord  throughout  the  community.  Their  first  principle  of  action  is  to  leave 
their  own  aft'airs,  and  neglect  their  own  duties,  to  regulate  the  affairs  and  duties 
of  others.  Theirs  is  the  task  to  feed  the  hungry,  and  clothe  the  naked,  of  other 
lands,  while  they  thrust  the  naked,  famished,  and  shivering  beggar  from  their 
own  doors;  to  instruct  the  heathen,  while  their  own  children  want  the  bread  of 
life.  When  this  spirit  infuses  itself  into  the  bosom  of  a  statesman,  (if  one  so 
possessed  can  be  called  a  statesman,)  it  converts  him  at  once  into  a  visionary 
enthusiast.  Then  it  is  that  he  indulges  in  golden  dreams  of  national  greatness 
and  prosperity.  He  discovers  that  "  liberty  is  power,"  and  not  content  with 
vast  schemes  of  improvement  at  home,  which  it  would  bankrupt  the  treasury  of 
the  world  to  execute,  he  flies  to  foreign  lands,  to  fulfil  obligations  to  "  the  human 
race"  by  inculcating  the  principles  of  "political  and  religious  liberty,"  and  pro 
moting  the  "  general  welfare"  of  the  whole  human  race.  It  is  a  spirit  which 
has  long  been  busy  with  the  slaves  of  the  south;  and  is  even  now  displaying 
itself  in  vain  efforts  to  drive  the  government  from  its  wise  policy  in  relation  to 
the  Indians.  It  is  this  spirit  which  has  filled  the  land  with  thousands  of  wild 
and  visionary  projects,  which  can  have  no  effect  but  to  waste  the  energies  and  dis 
sipate  the  resources  of  the  country.  It  is  the  spirit  of  which  the  aspiring  pol 
itician  dexterously  avails  himself,  when,  by  inscribing  on  his  banner  the  magi 
cal  words  LIBERTY  and  PHILANTHROPY,  he  draws  to  his  support  that  class  of 
persons  who  are  ready  to  bow  down  at  the  very  name  of  their  idols. 

But,  sir,  whatever  difference  of  opinion  may  exist  as  to  the  effect  of  slavery 
on  national  wealth  and  prosperity,  if  we  may  trust  to  experience,  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  it  has  never  yet  produced  any  injurious  effect  on  individual  or 
national  character.  Look  through  the  whole  history  of  the  country,  from  the 
commencement  of  the  revolution  down  to  the  present  hour ;  where  are  there  to 
be  found  brighter  examples  of  intellectual  and  moral  greatness  than  have  been 
exhibited  by  the  sons  of  the  south?  From  the  FATHER  OF  HIS  COUNTRY 
down  to  the  DISTINGUISHED  CHIEFTAIN  who  has  been  elevated  by  a  grateful 
people  to  the  highest  office  in  their  gift,  the  interval  is  filled  up  by  a  long  line 
of  orators,  of  statesmen,  and  of  heroes,  justly  entitled  to  rank  among  the  orna 
ments  of  their  country,  and  the  benefactors  of  mankind.  Look  at  the  "  Old 
Dominion,"  great  and  magnanimous  Virginia,  "  whose  jewels  are  her  sons."  Is 


'   148 

there  any  state  in  this  Union  which  has  contributed  so  much  to  the  honor  and 
welfare  of  the  country  ?  Sir,  I  will  yield  the  whole  question  —  I  will  acknowl 
edge  the  fatal  effects  of  slavery  upon  character,  if  any  one  can  say,  that  for 
noble  disinterestedness,  ardent  love  of  country,  exalted  virtue,  and  a  pure  and 
holy  devotion  to  liberty,  the  people  of  the  Southern  States  have  ever  been  sur 
passed  by  any  in  the  world.  I  know,  sir,  that  this  devotion  to  liberty  has 
sometimes  been  supposed  to  be  at  war  with  our  institutions ;  but  it  is  in  some 
degree  the  result  of  those  very  institutions.  Burke,  the  most  philosophical  of 
statesmen,  as  he  was  the  most  accomplished  of  orators,  well  understood  the 
operation  of  this  principle,  in  elevating  the  sentiments  and  exalting  the  princi 
ples  of  the  people  in  slaveholding  states.  I  will  conclude  my  remarks  on  this 
branch  of  the  subject,  by  reading  a  few  passages  from  his  speech  "  on  moving 
his  resolutions  for  conciliation  with  the  colonies,"  the  22d  of  March,  1775. 

"  There  is  a  circumstance  attending  the  southern  colonies  which  makes  the 
spirit  of  liberty  still  more  high  and  haughty  than  in  those  to  the  northward. 
It  is,  that  in  Virginia  and  the  Carolinas  they  have  a  vast  multitude  of  slaves. 
Where  this  is  the  case,  in  any  part  of  the  world,  those  who  are  free  are  by  far 
the  most  proud  and  jealous  of  their  freedom.  Freedom  is  to  them  not  only 
an  enjoyment,  but  a  kind  of  rank  and  privilege.  Not  seeing  there,  as  in  coun 
tries  where  it  is  a  common  blessing,  and  as  broad  and  general  as  the  air,  that 
it  may  be  united  with  much  abject  toil,  with  great  misery,  with  all  the  exterior 
of  servitude,  liberty  looks  among  them  like  something  more  noble  and  liberal. 
I  do  not  mean,  sir,  to  commend  the  superior  morality  of  this  sentiment,  which 
has,  at  least,  as  much  pride  as  virtue  in  it  —  but  I  cannot  alter  the  nature  of 
man.  The  fact  is  so;  and  these  people  of  the  southern  colonies  are  much 
more  strongly,  and  with  a  higher  and  more  stubborn  spirit,  attached  to  liberty 
than  those  to  the  northward.  Such  were  all  the  ancient  commonwealths  —  such 
were  our  Gothic  ancestors  —  such,  in  our  days,  were  the  Poles  —  and  such  will 
be  all  masters  of  slaves  who  are  not  slaves  themselves.  In  such  a  people,  the 
haughtiness  of  domination  combines  with  the  spirit  of  freedom,  fortifies  it,  and 
renders  it  invincible" 

In  the  course  of  my  former  remarks,  Mr.  President,  I  took  occasion  to  de 
precate,  as  one  of  the  greatest  evils,  the  consolidation  of  this  government. 
The  gentleman  takes  alarm  at  the  sound,  "Consolidation?  like  the  "tariff? 
grates  upon  his  ear.  He  tells  us,  "  we  have  heard  much  of  late  about  consoli 
dation  ;  that  it  is  the  rallying  word  of  all  who  are  endeavoring  to  weaken 
the  Union,  by  adding  to  the  power  of  the  states."  But  consolidation  (says 
the  gentleman)  was  the  very  object  for  which  the  Union  was  formed ;  and,  in 
support  of  that  opinion,  he  read  a  passage  from  the  address  of  the  president 
of  the  convention  to  Congress,  which  he  assumes  to  be  authority  on  his  side 
of  the  question.  But,  sir,  the  gentleman  is  mistaken.  The  object  of  the  fra- 
mers  of  the  constitution,  as  disclosed  in  that  address,  was  not  the  consolida 
tion  of  the  government,  but  "  the  consolidation  of  the  Union."  It  was  not  to 
draw  power  from  the  states,  in  order  to  transfer  it  to  a  great  national  govern 
ment,  but,  in  the  language  of  the  constitution  itself,  "  to  form  a  more  perfect 
Union ;" — and  by  what  means  ?  By  "  establishing  justice,  promoting  do 
mestic  tranquillity,  and  securing  the  blessings  of  liberty  to  ourselves  and  our 
posterity."  This  is  the  true  reading  of  the  constitution.  But,  according  to 
the  gentleman's  reading,  the  object  of  the  constitution  was,  to  consolidate  the 
government,  and  the  means  would  seem  to  be,  the  promotion  of  injustice, 
causing  domestic  discord,  and  depriving  the  states  and  the  people  "  of  the 
blessings  of  liberty"  for  ever. 


149 

The  gentleman  boasts  of  belonging  to  the  party  of  NATIONAL  REPUBLI 
CANS.  .National  Republicans !  A  new  name,  sir,  for  a  very  old  thing.  The 
National  Republicans  of  the  present  day  were  the  Federalists  of  '98,  who 
became  Federal  Republicans  during  the  war  of  1812,  and  were  manufac 
tured  into  National  Republicans  somewhere  about  the  year  18:25. 

As  a  party,  (by  whatever  name  distinguished,)  they  have  always  been 
animated  by  the  same  principles,  and  have  kept  steadily  in  view  a  common 
object,  the  consolidation  of  the  government.  Sir,  the  party  to  which  I  am 
proud  of  having  belonged,  from  the  very  commencement  of  my  political  life 
to  the  present  day,  were  the  Democrats  of  '98,  (Anarchists,  Anti-Federal 
ists,  Revolutionists,  I  think  they  were  sometimes  called.)  They  assumed 
the'mune  of  DEMOCRATIC  REPUBLICANS  in  1822,  and  have  retained  their 
name  and  principles  up  to  the  present  hour.  True  to  their  political  faith, 
they  have  always,  as  a  party,  been  in  favor  of  limitations  of  power ;  they  have 
insisted  that  all  powers  not  delegated  to  the  federal  government  are  reserved, 
and  have  been  constantly  struggling,  as  they  now  are,  to  preserve  the  rights 
of  the  states,  and  to  prevent  them  from  being  drawn  into  the  vortex,  and  swal 
lowed  up  by  one  great  consolidated  government. 

Sir,  any  one  acquainted  with  the  history  of  parties  in  this  country  will  re 
cognize  in  the  points  now  in  dispute  between  the  senator  from  Massachusetts 
and  myself  the  very  grounds  which  have,  from  the  beginning,  divided  the 
two  great  parties  in  this  country,  and  which  (call  these  parties  by  what 
names  you  will,  and  amalgamate  them  as  you  may)  will  divide  them  for 
ever.  The  true  distinction  between  those  parties  is  laid  down  in  a  celebrated 
manifesto,  issued  by  the  convention  of  the  Federalists  of  Massachusetts,  as 
sembled  in  Boston,  in  February,  1824^  on  the  occasion  of  organizing  a  party 
opposition  to  the  re-election  of  Governor  Eustis.  The  gentleman  will  recog 
nize  this  as  "the  canonical  book  of  political  scripture;"  and  it  instructs  us 
that,  wnen  the  American  colonies  redeemed  themselves  from  British  bondage, 
and  became  so  many  INDEPENDENT  NATIONS,  they  proposed  to  form  a  NA 
TIONAL  UNION,  (not  a  Federal  Union,  sir,  but  a  National  Union.)  Those 
who  were  in  favor  of  a  union  of  the  states  in  this  form  became  known  by 
the  name  of  Federalists;  those  who  wanted  no  union  of  the  states,  or  dis 
liked  the  proposed  form  of  union,  became  known  by  the  name  of  Anti-Fed 
eralists.  By  means  which  need  not  be  enumerated,  the  Anti- Federalists 
became  (after  the  expiration  of  twelve  years)  our  national  rulers,  and  for  a 
period  of  sixteen  years,  until  the  close  of  Mr.  Madison's  administration,  in 
1817,  continued  to  exercise  the  exclusive  direction  of  our  public  affairs. 
Here,  sir,  is  the  true  history  of  the  origin,  rise,  and  progress  of  the  party  of 
National  Republicans,  who  date  back  to  the  very  origin  of  the  government, 
and  who,  then,  as  now,  chose  to  consider  the  constitution  as  having  created, 
not  a  Federal,  but  a  NATIONAL  UNION  ;  who  regarded  "  consolidation"  as  no 
evil,  and  who  doubtless  consider  it  "  a  consummation  devoutly  to  be  wished," 
to  build  up  a  great  "  central  government,"  "  one  and  indivisible."  Sir,  there 
have  existed,  in  every  age  and  every  country,  two  distinct  orders  of  men — 
the  lovers  of  freedom,  and  the  devoted  advocates  of  power. 

The  same  great  leading  principles,  modified  only  by  the  peculiarities  of 
manners,  habits,  and  institutions,  divided  parties  in  the  ancient  republics,  ani- 
matod  the  whigs  and  tories  of  Great  Britain,  distinguished  in  our  own  times 
the  liberals  and  ultras  of  France,  and  may  be  traced  even  in  the  bloody 
struggles  of  unhappy  Spain.  Sir,  when  the  gallant  Riego,  who  devoted 
himself,  and  all  that  he  possessed,  to  the  liberties  of  his  country,  was  dragged 


150 

to  the  scaffold,  followed  by  the  tears  and  lamentations  of  every  lover  of  free 
dom  throughout  the  world,  he  perished  arcid  the  deafening  cries  of  "  Long 
live  the  absolute  king!"  The  people  whom  I  represent,  Mr.  President,  are 
the  descendants  of  those  who  brought  with  them  to  this  country,  as  the  most 
precious  of  their  possessions,  "  an  ardent  love  of  liberty ;"  and  while  that  shall 
be  preserved,  they  will  always  be  found  manfully  struggling  against  the 
consolidation  of  the  government — AS  THE  WORST  OF  EVILS. 

The  senator  from  Massachusetts,  in  alluding  to  the  tariff  becomes  quite  fa 
cetious.  He  tells  us  that  "  he  hears  of  nothing  but  tariff,  tariff,  tariff;  and, 
if  a  word  could  be  found  to  rhyme  with  it,  he  presumes  it  would  be  cele 
brated  in  verse  and  set  to  music."  Sir,  perhaps  the  gentleman,  in  mockery 
of  our  complaints,  may  be  himself  disposed  to  sing  the  praises  of  the  tariftj 
in  doggerel  verse,  to  the  tune  of  "  Old  Hundred."  I  am  not  at  all  surprised, 
however,  at  the  aversion  of  the  gentleman  to  the  very  name  of  tariff.  I  doubt 
not  that  it  must  aways  bring  up  some  very  unpleasant  recollections  to  his 
mind.  If  I  am  not  greatly  mistaken,  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  was  a 
leading  actor  at  a  great  meeting  got  up  in  Boston  in  1820,  against  the  tariff. 
It  has  generally  been  supposed  that  he  drew  up  the  resolutions  adopted  by 
that  meeting,  denouncing  the  tariff  system  as  unequal,  oppressive,  and  unjust, 
and  if  I  am  not  much  mistaken,  denying  its  constitutionality.  Certain  it  is, 
that  the  gentleman  made  a  speech  on  that  occasion  in  support  of  those  reso 
lutions,  denouncing  the  system  in  no  very  measured  terms;  and,  if  my  mem 
ory  serves  me,  calling  its  constitutionality  in  question.  I  regret  that  I  have 
not  been  able  to  lay  my  hands  on  those  proceedings;  but  I  have  seen  them, 
and  cannot  be  mistaken  in  their  character.  At  that  time,  sir,  the  senator 
from  Massachusetts  entertained  the  very  sentiments  in  relation  to  the  tariff, 
which  the  South  now  entertains.  We  next  find  the  senator  from  Massachu 
setts  expressing  his  opinion  on  the  tariff,  as  a  member  of  the  House  of  Repre 
sentatives  from  the  city  of  Boston,  in  ]  824.  On  that  occasion,  sir,  the  gen 
tleman  assumed  a  position  which  commanded  the  respect  and  admiration  of 
his  country.  He  stood  forth  the  powerful,  and  fearless  champion  of  free  trade. 
He  met,  in  that  conflict,  the  advocates  of  restriction  and  monopoly,  and  they 
"fled  from  before  his  face."  With  a  profound  sagacity,  a  fullness  of  know 
ledge,  and  a  richness  of  illustration  that  have  never  been  surpassed,  he  main 
tained  and  established  the  principles  of  commercial  freedom,  on  a  foundation 
never  to  be  shaken.  Great  indeed  was  the  victory  achieved  by  the  gentle 
man  on  that  occasion;  most  striking  the  contrast  between  the  clear,  forcible, 
and  convincing  arguments  by  which  he  carried  away  the  understandings  of 
his  hearers,  and  the  narrow  views  and  "wretched  sophistry  of  another  distin 
guished  orator,  who  may  be  truly  said  to  have  "  held  up  his  farthing  candle 
to  the  sun." 

Sir,  the  senator  from  Massachusetts,  on  that,  the  proudest  day  of  his  life, 
like  a  mighty  giant,  bore  away  upon  his  shoulders  the  pillars  of  the  temple 
of  error  and  delusion,  escaping  himself  unhurt,  and  leaving  his  adversaries 
overwhelmed  in  its  ruins.  Then  it  was  that  he  erected  to  free  trade  a  beauti 
ful  and  enduring  monument,  and  "inscribed  the  marble  with  his  name."  Mr. 
President,  it  is  with  pain  and  regret  that  I  now  go  forward  to  the  next  great 
era  in  the  political  life  of  that  gentleman,  when  he  was  found  on  this  floor, 
supporting,  advocating,  and  finally  voting  for  the  tariff  of  1828 — that  "bill 
of  abominations."  By  that  act,  sir,  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  has  de 
stroyed  the  labors  of  his  whole  life,  and  given  a  wound  to  the  cause  of  free 
trade  never  to  be  healed.  Sir,  when  I  recollect  the  position  which  that  gen- 


151 

tleman  once  occupied,  and  that  which  he  now  holds  in  public  estimation,  in 
relation  to  this  subject,  it  is  not  at  all  surprising  that  the  tariff  should  be 
hateful  to  his  ears.  Sir,  if  I  had  erected  to  my  own  fame  so  proud  a  monu 
ment  as  that  which  the  gentleman  built-up  in  1824,  and  I  could  have  been 
tempted  to  destroy  it  with  my  own  hands,  I  should  hate  the  voice  that  should 
rin^-  "the  accursed  tariff"  in  my  ears.  I  doubt  not  the  gentleman  feels  very 
much,  in  relation  to  the  tariff,  as  a  certain  knight  did  to  "  instinct?  and  with 
him  would  be  disposed  to  exclaim, — 

Ah!  no  more  of  that,  Hal,  an  thou  lovest  me." 

But,  Mr.  President,  to  be  more  serious ;  what  are  we  of  the  south  to  think 
of  what  we  have  heard  this  day  ?  The  senator  from  Massachusetts  tells  us  that 
the  tariff  is  not  an  eastern  measure,  and  treats  it  as  if  the  east  had  no  interest 
in  it.  The  senator  from  Missouri  insists  it  is  not  a  western  measure,  and  that 
it  has  done  no  good  to  the  west.  The  south  comes  in,  and,  in  the  most  earnest 
manner,  represents  to  you  that  this  measure,  which  we  are  told  "  is  of  no 
value  to  the  east  or  the  west,"  is  "  utterly  destructive  of  our  interests."  We 
represent  to  you  that  it  has  spread  ruin  and  devastation  through  the  land,  and 
prostrated  our  hopes  in  the  dust.  We  solemnly  declare  that  we  believe  the 
system  to  be  wholly  unconstitutional,  and  a  violation  of  the  compact  between 
the  states  and  the  Union ;  and  our  brethren  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  our  complaints, 
and  refuse  to  relieve  us  from  a  system  "  which  not  enriches  them,  but  makes 
us  poor  indeed."  Good  God!  Mr.  President,  has  it  come  to  this/  Do  gen 
tlemen  hold  the  feelings  and  wishes  of  their  brethren  at  so  cheap  a  rate,  that 
they  refuse  to  gratify  them  at  so  small  a  price  ?  Do  gentlemen  value  so  lightly 
the  peace  and  harmony  of  the  country,  that  they  will  not  yield  a  measure  of 
this  description  to  the  affectionate  entreaties  and  earnest  remonstrances  of  their 
friends  ?  Do  gentlemen  estimate  the  value  of  the  Union  at  so  low  a  price, 
that  they  will  not  even  make  one  effort  to  bind  the  states  together  with  the 
cords  of  affection  ?  And  has  it  come  to  this  ?  Is  this  the  spirit  in  which  this 
government  is  to  be  administered  ?  If  so,  let  me  tell  gentlemen,  the  seeds  of 
dissolution  are  already  sown,  and  our  children  will  reap  the  bitter  fruit. 

The  honorable  gentleman  from  Massachusetts,  (Mr.  Webster,)  while  he 
exonerates  me  personally  from  the  charge,  intimates  that  there  is  a  party  in 
the  country  who  are  looking  to  disunion.  Sir,  if  the  gentleman  had  stopped 
there,  the  accusation  would  have  "  passed  by  me  like  the  idle  wind,  which  I 
regard  not."  But  when  he  goes  on  to  give  to  his  accusation  "  a  local  habita 
tion  and  a  name,"  by  quoting  the  expression  of  a  distinguished  citizen  of  South 
Carolina,  (Dr.  Cooper,)  "  that  it  was  time  for  the  south  to  calculate  the  value 
of  the  Union,"  and  in  the  language  of  the  bitterest  sarcasm,  adds,  fo  Surely 
then  the  Union  cannot  last  longer  than  July,  1831,"  it  is  impossible  to  mistake 
either  the  allusion  or  the  object  of  the  gentleman.  Now,  Mr.  President,  I  call 
upon  every  one  who  hears  me  to  bear  witness  that  this  controversy  is  not  of 
my  seeking.  The  Senate  will  do  me  the  justice  to  remember  that,  at  the 
time  this  unprovoked  and  uncalled-for  attack  was  made  on  the  south,  not  one 
word  had  been  uttered  by  me  in  disparagement  of  New  England ;  nor  had  I 
made  the  most  distant  allusion  either  to  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  or  the 
state  he  represents.  But,  sir,  that  gentleman  has  thought  proper,  for  purposes 
best  known  to  himself,  to  strike  the  south,  through  me,  the  most  unworthy  of 
her  servants.  He  has  crossed  the  border,  he  has  invaded  the  state  of  South 
Carolina,  is  making  war  upon  her  citizens,  and  endeavoring  to  overthrow  her 
principles  and  her  institutions.  Sir,  when  the  gentleman  provokes  me  to  such 


152 

a  conflict,  I  meet  him  at  the  threshold ;  I  will  struggle,  while  I  have  life,  for 
our  altars  and  our  firesides;  and,  if  God  gives  me  strength,  I  will  drive  back 
the  invader  discomfited.  Nor  shall  I  stop  there.  If  the  gentleman  provokes 
the  war,  he  shall  have  war.  Sir,  I  will  not  stop  at  the  border;  I  will  carry 
the  war  into  the  enemy's  territory,  and  not  consent  to  lay  down  my  aims  until 
I  have  obtained  "indemnity  for  the  past  and  security  for  the  future."  It  is 
with  unfeigned  reluctance,  Mr.  President,  that  I  enter  upon  the  performance 
of  this  part  of  my  duty;  I  shrink  almost  instinctively  from  a  couise,  however 
necessary,  which  may  have  a  tendency  to  excite  sectional  feelings  and  s(  <  tional 
jealousies.  But,  sir,  the  task  has  been  forced  upon  me ;  and  I  proceed  right 
onward  to  the  performance  of  my  duty.  Be  the  consequences  what  they  may, 
the  responsibility  is  with  those  who  have  imposed  upon  me  this  necessity. 
The  senator  from  Massachusetts  has  thought  proper  to  cast  the  first  stone ;  and 
if  he  shall  find,  according  to  a  hou  17  adage,  "that  he  lives  in  a  glass  house," 
on  Li?  head  be  the  consequences.  The  gentleman  has  made  a  great  flourish 
about  his  fidelity  to  Massachusetts.  •  I  shall  make  no  professions  of  zeal  for 
the  interests  and  honor  of  South  Carolina;  of  that  my  constituents  shall  judge. 
If  there  be  one  state  in  the  Union,  Mr.  President,  (and  I  say  it  not  in  a  boast 
ful  spirit,)  that  may  challenge  comparison  with  any  other,  for  a  uniform,  zeal 
ous,  ardent,  and  uncalculating  .devotion  to  the  Union,  that  state  is  South  Car 
olina.  Sir,  from  the  very  commencement  of  the  revolution  up  to  this  hour, 
there  is  no  sacrifice,  however  great,  she  has  not  cheerfully  made,  no  service 
she  has  ever  hesitated  to  perform.  She  has  adhered  to  you  in  your  prosper 
ity  ;  but  in  your  adversity  she  has  clung  to  you  with  more  than  filial  affection. 
No  matter  what  was  the  condition  of  her  domestic  affaire,  though  deprived  of 
.  er  resources,  divided  by  parties,  or  sumwded  with  difficulties,  the  call  of 
tne  country  has  been  to  her  as  the  voice  of  God.  Domestic  discord  ceased 
av  the  sound ;  every  man  became  at  once  reconciled  to  his  brethren,  and  the 
sons  of  Carolina  were  all  seen  crowding  together  to  the  temple,  bringing  their 
gifts  to  the  altar  of  their  common  country. 

What,  sir,  was  the  conduct  of  the  south  during  the  revolution  ?  Sir,  I 
honor  New  England  for  her  conduct  in  that  glorious  struggle.  But  great  as 
is  the  praise  which  belongs  to  her,  I  think,  at  least,  equal  honor  is  due  to  the 
south.  They  espoused  the  quarrel  of  their  brethren  with  a  generous  zeal, 
which  did  not  suffer  them  to  stop  to  calculate  their  interest  in  the  dispute. 
Favorites  of  the  mother  country,  possessed  of  neither  ships  nor  seamen  to 
create  a  commercial  rivalship,  they  might  have  found  in  their  situation  a 
guaranty  that  their  trade  would  be  forever  fostered  and  protected  by  Great 
Britain.  But,  trampling  on  all  considerations  either  of  interest  or  safety,  they 
rushed  into  the  conflict,  and  fighting  for  principle,  perilled  all,  in  the  sacred 
cause  of  freedom.  Never  was  there  exhibited  in  the  history  of  the  world 
higher  examples  of  noble  daring,  dreadful  suffering,  and  heroic  endurance, 
than  by  the  whigs  of  Carolina  during  the  revolution.  The  whole  state,  from 
the  mountains  to  the  sea,  was  overrun  by  an  overwhelming  force  of  the  enemy. 

The  fruits  of  industry  perished  on  the  spot  where  they  were  produced,  or 
were  consumed  by  the 'foe.  The  "plains  of  Carolina"  drank  up  the  most 
precious  blood  of  her  citizens.  Black  and  smoking  ruins  marked  the  places 
which  had  been  the  habitations  of  her  children.  Driven  from  their  homes 
into  the  gloomy  and  almost  impenetrable  swamps,  even  there  the  spirit  of 
liberity  survived,  and  South  Carolina  (sustained  by  the  example  of  her  Sump- 
ters  and  her  Marions)  proved  by  her  conduct,  that  though  her  soil  might  bo 
overrun,  the  spirit  of  her  people  was  invincible. 


153 

But,  sir,  our  country  was  soon  called  upon  to  engage  in  another  revolution 
ary  struggle,  and  that,  too,  was  a  struggle  for  principle.  I  mean  the  politi 
cal  revolution  which  dates  back  to  '98,  and  which,  if  it  had  not  been  success 
fully  achieved,  would  have  left  us  none  of  the  fruits  of  the  revolution  of  '76. 
The  revolution  of  '98  restored  the  constitution,  rescued  the  liberty  of  the 
citizen  from  the  grasp  of  those  who  were  aiming  at  its  life,  and  in  the  emphatic 
language  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  "  saved  the  constitution  at  its  last  gasp."  And  by 
whom  was  it  achieved  ?  By  the  south,  sir,  aided  only  by  the  democracy  of 
the  north  and  west. 

I  come  now  to  the  war  of  1812  —  a  war  which  I  well  remember,  was  called 
in  derision  —  while  its  events  were  doubtful  —  the  southern  war,  and  some 
times  the  Carolina  war ;  but  which  is  now  universally  acknowledged  to  have 
done  more  for  the  honor  and  prosperity  of  the  country  than  all  other  events 
in  our  history  put  together.  What,  sir,  were  the  objects  of  that  war  ?  "  Free 
trade  and  sailor's  rights !"  It  was  for  the  protection  of  northern  shipping  and 
New  England  seamen  that  the  country  flew  to  arms.  What  interest  had  the 
south  in  that  contest  ?  If  they  had  sat  down  coldly  to  calculate  the  value 
of  their  interests  involved  in  it,  they  would  have  found  that  they  had  every 
thing  to  lose,  and  nothing  to  gain.  But,  sir,  with  that  generous  devotion  to 
country  so  characteristic  of  the  south,  they  only  asked  if  the  rights  of  any 
portion  of  their  fellow-citizens  had  been  invaded ;  and  when  told  that  north 
ern  ships  and  New  England  seamen  had  been  arrested  on  the  common  high 
way  of  nations,  they  felt  that  the  honor  of  their  country  was  assailed ;  and 
acting  on  that  exalted  sentiment  "which  feels  a  stain  like  a  wound,"  they 
resolved  to  seek,  in  open  war,  for  a  redress  of  those  injuries  which  it  did  not 
become  freemen  to  endure.  Sir,  the  whole  south,  animated  as  by  a  common 
impulse,  cordially  united  in  declaring  and  promoting  that  war.  South  Caro 
lina  sent  to  your  councils,  as  the  advocates  and  supporters  of  that  war,  the 
noblest  of  her  sons.  How  they  fulfilled  that  trust  let  a  grateful  country  tell. 
Not  a  measure  was  adopted,  not  a  battle  fought,  not  a  victory  won,  which 
contributed,  in  any  degree,  to  the  success  of  that  war,  to  which  southern 
councils  and  southern  valor  did  not  largely  contribute.  Sir,  since  South 
Carolina  is  assailed,  I  must  be  suffered  to  speak  it  to  her  praise,  that  at  the 
very  moment  when,  in  one  quarter,  we  heard  it  solemnly  proclaimed,  "  that  it 
did  not  become  a  religious  and  moral  people  to  rejoice  at  the  victories  of  our 
army  or  our  navy,"  her  legislature  unanimously 

"  Resolved,  That  we  will  cordially  support  the  government  in  the  vigorous 
prosecution  of  the  war,  until  a  peace  can  be  obtained  on  honorable  terms,  and 
we  will  cheerfully  submit  to  every  privation  that  may  be  required  of  us,  by 
our  government,  for  the  accomplishment  of  this  object." 

South  Carolina  redeemed  that  pledge.  She  threw  open  her  treasury  to 
the  government.  She  put  at  the  absolute  disposal  of  the  officers  of  the  U. 
States  all  that  she  possessed  —  her  men,  her  money,  and  her  arms.  She 
appropriated  half  a  million  of  dollars,  on  her  own  account^  in  defence  of 
her  inaritime  frontier,  ordered  a  brigade  of  state  troops  to  be  raised,  and  when 
left  to  protect  herself  by  her  own  means,  never  suffered  the  enemy  to  touch 
her  soil,  without  being  instantly  driven  off  or  captured. 

Such,  sir,  was  the  conduct  of  the  south  —  such  the  conduct  of  my  own 
state  in  that  dark  hour  "  which  tried  men's  souls." 

When  I  look  back  and  contemplate  the  spectacle  exhibited  at  that  time  in 
another  quarter  of  the  Union  —  when  I  think  of  the  conduct  of  certain  por 
tions  of  New  England,  and  remember  the  part  which  was  acted  on  that 


154 

memorable  occasion  by  the  political  associates  of  the  gentleman  from  Massa 
chusetts —  nay,  when  I  follow  that  gentleman  into  the  councils  of  the  nation, 
arid  listen  to  his  voice  during  the  darkest  period  of  the  war,  I  am  indeed  as 
tonished  that  he  should  venture  to  touch  upon  the  topics  which  he  has  intro 
duced  into  this  debate.  South  Carolina  reproached  by  Massachusetts !  And 
from  whom  does  the  accusation  come  ?  Not  from  the  democracy  of  New 
'England ;  for  they  have  been  in  times  past,  as  they  are  now,  the  friends  and 
allies  of  the  south.  No,  sir,  the  accusation  comes  from  that  party  whose  acts, 
duricg  the  most  trying  and  eventful  period  of  our  national  history,  were  of 
such  a  character,  that  their  own  legislature,  but  a  few  years  ago,  actually 
blotted  them  out  from  their  records,  as  a  stain  upon  the  honor  of  the  country. 
But  how  can  they  ever  be  blotted  out  from  the  recollection  of  any  one  who 
had  a  heart  to  feel,  a  mind  to  comprehend,  and  a  memory  to  retain,  the  events 
of  that  day !  Sir,  I  shall  not  attempt  to  write  the  history  of  the  party  in 
New  England  to  which  I  have  alluded  —  the  war  party  in  peace,  and  the 
peace  party  in  war.  That  task  I  shall  leave  to  some  future  biographer  ot 
Nathan  Dane,  and  I  doubt  not  it  will  be  found  quite  easy  to  prove  that  the 
peace  party  of  Massachusetts  were  the  only  defenders  of  their  country  during 
their  war,  and  actually  achieved  all  our  victories  by  land  and  sea.  In  the 
mean  time,  sir,  and  until  that  history  shall  be  written,  I  propose,  with  the 
feeble  and  glimmering  lights  which  I  possess,  to  review  the  conduct  of  this 
party,  in  connection  with  the  war,  and  the  events  which  immediately  pre 
ceded  it. 

It  will  be  recollected,  sir,  that  our  great  causes  of  quarrel  with  Great 
Britain  were  her  depredations  on  northern  commerce,  and  the  impressment  of 
New  England  seamen.  From  every  quarter  we  were  called  upon  for  pro 
tection.  Importunate  as  the  west  is  now  represented  to  be  on  another  subject, 
the  importunity  of  the  east  on  that  occasion  was  far  greater.  I  hold  in  my 
hands  the  evidence  of  the  fact.  Here  are  petitions,  memorials,  and  remon 
strances  from  all  parts  of  New  England,  setting  forth  the  injustice,  the  op 
pressions,  the  depredations,  the  insults,  the  outrages  committed  by  Great 
Britain  against  the  unoffending  commerce  and  seamen  of  New  England,  and 
calling  upon  Congress  for  redress.  Sir,  I  cannot  stop  to  read  these  memorials. 
In  that  from  Boston,  after  stating  the  alarming  and  extensive  condemnation 
of  our  vessels  by  Great  Britain,  which  threatened  "  to  sweep  our  commerce 
from  the  face  of  the  ocean,"  and  "  to  involve  our  merchants  in  bankruptcy," 
they  call  upon  the  government  "to  assert  our  rights,  and  to  adopt  such 
measures  as  will  support  the  dignity  and  honor  of  the  United  States." 

From  Salem  we  heard  a  language  still  more  decisive;  they  call  explicitly 
for  "  an  appeal  to  arms,"  and  pledge  their  lives  and  property  in  support  of  any 
measures  which  Congress  might  adopt.  From  Newburyport  an  appeal  was 
made  "  to  the  firmness  and  justice  of  the  government  to  obtain  compensation 
and  protection."  It  was  here,  I  think,  that,  when  the  war  was  declared,  it 
resolved  "to  resist  our  own  government  even  unto  blood."  [Olive  Branch,  p.  101. 

In  other  quarters  the  common  language  of  that  day  was,  that  our  com 
merce  and  our  seamen  were  entitled  to  protection ;  and  that  it  was  the  duty 
of  the  government  to  afford  it  at  every  hazard.  The  conduct  of  Great  Britain, 
we  were  then  told,  was  "  an  outrage  upon  our  national  independence."  These 
clamors,  which  commenced  as  early  as  January,  1806,  were  continued  up  to 
1812.  In  a  message  from  the  governor  of  one  of  the  New  England  States, 
as  late  as  the  10th "October,  1811,  this  language  is  held:  "  A  manly  and  de 
cisive  course  has  become  indispensable ;  a  course  to  satisfy  foreign  nations, 


155 

that,  while  we  desire  peace,  we  have  the  means  and  the  spirit  to  repel  aggres 
sion.  We  are  felse  to  ourselves  when  our  commerce,  or  our  territory,  is  in 
vaded  with  impunity," 

About  this  time,  however,  a  remarkable  change  was  observable  in  the  tone 
and  temper  of  those  who  had  been  endeavoring  to  force  the  country  into  a 
war.  The  language  of  complaint  was  changed  into  that  of  insult,  and  calls 
for  protection  converted  into  reproaches.  "  Smoke,  smoke !"  says  one  writer ; 
"my  life  on  it,  our  executive  have  no  more  idea  of  declaring  war  than  my 
grandmother."  "  The  committee  of  ways  and  means,"  says  another,  "  have 
come  out  with  their  Pandora's  box  of  taxes,  and  yet  nobody  dreams  of  war." 
"  Congress  do  not  mean  to  declare  war ;  they  dare  not."  But  why  multiply 
examples  ?  An  honorable  member  of  the  other  house,  from  the  city  of  Boston, 
[Mr.  Quincy,]  in  a  speech  delivered  on  the  3d  April,  1812,  says,  "Neither 
promises,  nor  threats,  nor  asseverations,  nor  oaths,  will  make  me  believe  that 
you  will  go  to  war.  The  navigation  states  are  sacrificed,  and  the  spirit  and 
character  of  the  country  prostrated  by  fear  and  avarice."  "  You  cannot,"  said 
the  same  gentleman,  on  another  occasion,  "  be  kicked  into  a  war." 

Well,  sir,  the  war  at  length  came,  and  what  did  we  behold  ?  The  very 
men  who  had  been  for  six  years  clamorous  for  war,  and  for  whose  protection 
it  was  waged,  became  at  once  equally  clamorous  against  it.  They  had  received 
a  miraculous  visitation;  a  new  light  suddenly  beamed  upon  their  minds;  the 
scales  fell  from  their  eyes,  and  it  was  discovered  that  the  war  was  declared 
from  "  subserviency  to  France ; "  and  that  Congress,  and  the  executive,  "  had 
sold  themselves  to  Napoleon ; "  that  Great  Britain  had  in  fact  "  done  us  no 
essential  injury ; "  that  she  was  "  the  bulwark  of  our  religion ;  "  that  where 
"  she  took  one  of  our  ships,  she  protected  twenty ; "  and  that,  if  Great  Britain 
had  impressed  a  few  of  our  seamen,  it  was  because  "  she  could  not  distinguish 
them  from  their  own."  And  so  far  did  this  spirit  extend,  that  a  committee  of 
the  Massachusetts  legislature  actually  fell  to  calculation,  and  discovered,  to  their 
infinite  satisfaction,  but  to  the  astonishment  of  all  the  world  besides,  that  only 
eleven  Massachusetts  sailors  had  ever  been  impressed.  Never  shall  I  forget 
the  appeals  that  had  been  made  to  the  sympathies  of  the  south  in  behalf  of  the 
"  thousands  of  impressed  Americans,"  who  had  been  torn  from  their  families 
and  friends,  and  "  immured  in  the  floating  dungeons  of  Britain."  The  most 
touching  pictures  were  drawn  of  the  hard  condition  of  the  American  sailor, 
"  treated  like  a  slave,"  forced  to  fight  the  battles  of  his  enemy,  •"  lashed  to  the 
mast,  to  be  shot  at  like  a  dog."  But,  sir,  the  very  moment  we  had  taken  up 
arms  in  their  defence,  it  was  discovered  that  all  these  were  mere  "  fictions  of 
the  brain ;  "  and  that  the  whole  number  in  the  state  of  Massachusetts  was  but 
eleve'i ;  and  that  even  these  had  been  "taken  by  mistake."  Wonderful  dis 
covery  !  The  secretary  of  state  had  collected  authentic  lists  of  no  less  than 
six  thousand  impressed  Americans.  Lord  Castlereagh  himself  acknowledged 
sixteen  hundred.  Calculations  on  the  basis  of  the  number  found  on  board 
of  the  Guerriere,  the  Macedonian,  the  Java,  and  other  British  ships,  (captured 
bv  the  skill  and  gallantry  of  those  heroes  whose  achievements  are  the  treas 
ured  monuments  of  their  country's  glory,)  fixed  the  number  at  seven  thou 
sand;  and  yet,  it  seems,  Massachusetts  had  lost  but  eleven!  Eleven  Massa 
chusetts  sailors  taken  by  mistake !  A  cause  of  war  indeed  !  Their  ships  too, 
the  capture  of  which  had  threatened  "  universal  bankruptcy,"  it  was  discovered 
that  Great  Britain  was  their  friend  and  protector ;  "  where  she  had  taken  one 
she  had  protected  twenty."  Then  was  the  discovery  made,  that  subserviency 

France,  hostility  to  commerce,  "  a  determination,  on  the  part  of  the  south 


156 

and  west,  to  break  down  the  Eastern  States,"  and  especially  (as  reported  by  a 
committee  of  the  Massachusetts  legislature)  "  to  force  the  sons  of  commerce 
to  populate  the  wilderness,"  were  the  true  causes  of  the  war.  (Olive  Branch, 
pp.  .134,  291.)  But  let  us  look  a  little  further  into  the  conduct  of  the  peace 
party  of  New  England  at  that  important  crisis.  Whatever  difference  of 
opinion  might  have  existed  as  to  the  causes  of  the  war,  the  country  had  a 
right  to  expect,  that,  when  once  involved  in  the  contest,  all  America  would 
have  cordially  united  in  its  support.  Sir,  the  war  effected,  in  its  progress,  a 
union  of  all  parties  at  the  south.  But  not  so  in  New  England;  there  great 
efforts  were  made  to  stir  up  the  minds  of  the  people  to  oppose  it.  Nothing 
was  left  undone  to  embarrass  the  financial  operations  of  the  government,  to 
prevent  the  enlistment  of  troops,  to  keep  back  the  men  and  money  of  New 
England  from  the  service  of  the  Union,  to  force  the  president  from  his  seat. 
Yes,  sir,  "  the  Island  of  Elba,  or  a  halter ! "  were  the  alternatives  they  pre 
sented  to  the  excellent  and  venerable  James  Madison.  Sir,  the  war  was  fur 
ther  opposed  by  openly  carrying  on  illicit  trade  with  the  enemy,  by  permitting 
that  enemy  to  establish  herself  on  the  very  soil  of  Massachusetts,  and  by 
opening  a  free  trade  between  Great  Britain  and  America,  with  a  separate 
custom  house.  Yes,  sir,  those  who  cannot  endure  the  thought  that  we  should 
insist  on  a  free  trade,  in  time  of  profound  peace,  could,  without  scruple,  claim 
and  exercise  the  right  of  carrying  on  a  free  trade  with  the  enemy  in  a  time 
of  war;  and  finally  by  getting  up  the  renowned  "  Hartford  Convention,"  and 
preparing  the  way  for  an  open  resistance  to  the  government,  and  a  separation 
of  the  states.  Sir,  if  I  am  asked  for  the  proof  of  those  things,  I  fearlessly 
appeal  to  contemporary  history,  to  the  public  documents  of  the  country,  to 
the  recorded  opinion  and  acts  of  public  assemblies,  to  the  declaration  and 
acknowledgments,  since  made,  of  the  executive  and  legislature  of  Massachu 
setts  herself.* 

Sir,  the  time  has  not  been  allowed  me  to  trace  this  subject  through,  even 
if  I  had  been  disposed  to  do  so.  But  1  cannot  refrain  from  referring  to  one 
or  two  documents,  which  have  fallen  in  my  way  since  this  debate  began.  I 
read,  sir,  from  the  Olive  Branch  of  Matthew  Carey,  in  which  are  collected 
"the  actings  and  doings"  of  the  peace  party  of  New  England,  during  the 
continuance  of  the  embargo  and  the  war.  I  know  the  senator  from  Massa- 


*  In  answer  to  an  address  of  Governor  Eustis,  denouncing  the  conduct  of  the 
peace  party  during  the  war,  the  House  of  Representatives  of  Massachusetts,  in  June, 
1823,  say,  "  The  change  of  the  political  sentiments  evinced  in  the  late  elections  forms 
indeed  a  new  era  in  the  history  of  our  commonwealth.  It  is  the  triumph  of  reason 
over  passion;  of  patriotism  over  party  spirit.  Massachusetts  has  returned  to  her  first 
love,  and  is  no  longer  a  stranger  in  the  Un'on.  We  rejoice  that  though,  during  the 
last  war,  such  measures  were  adopted  in  this  state  as  occasioned  double  sacrifice  of 
treasure  and  of  life,  covered  the  friends  of  the  nation  with  humiliation  and  mourn 
ing,  and  fixed  a  stain  on  the  page  of  our  history,  a  redeeming  spirit  has  at  lergth 
arisen,  to  take  away  our  reproach,  and  restore  to  us  our  good  name,  our  rank  among 
our  sister  states,  and  our  just  influence  in  the  Union. 

"  Though  we  would  not  renew  contentions,  or  irritate  wantonly,  we  believe  that 
there  are  cases  when  it  is  necessary  we  should  '  wound  to  heal.'  And  we  consider  it 
among  the  first  duties  of -the  friends  of  our  national  government,  on  this  return  of 
power,  to  disavow  the  unwarrantable  course  pursued  by  this  state,  during  the  late 
war,  and  to  hold  up  the  measures  of  that  period  as  beacons  ;  that  the  present  and 
succeeding  generations  may  shun  that  career  which  must  inevitably  terminate  in  the 
destruction  of  the  individual  or  party  who  pursues  it ;  and  may  learn  the  important 
lesson,  that,  in  all  times,  the  path  of  duty  is  the  path  of  safety  ;  and  that  it  is  never 
dangerous  to  rally  around  the  standard  of  our  country." 


157 

chusctts  will  respect  the  high  authority  of  his  political  friend  and  fellow-laborer 
in  the  great  cause  of  "  domestic  industry." 

In  p.  301,  et  seq.,  309  of  this  work, . is  a  detailed  account  of  the  measures 
adopted  in  Massachusetts  during  the  war,  for  the  express  purpose  of  embar 
rassing  the  financial  operations  of  the  government  by  preventing  loans,  nnd 
thereby  driving  our  rulers  from  their  seats,  and  forcing  the  country  into  a  <iis- 
honorable  peace.  It  appears  that  the  Boston  banks  commenced  an  opeiation, 
by  which  a  run  was  to  be  made  upon  all  the  banks  to  the  south ;  at  the  same 
time  stopping  their  own  discounts;  the  effect  of  which  was  to  produce  a  sud 
den  and  most  alarming  diminution  of  the  circulating  medium,  and  universal 
distress  over  the  whole  country  —  "a  distress  which  they  failed  not  to  attribute 
to  the  unholy  war." 

To  such  an  extent  was  this  system  carried,  that  it  appears,  from  a  statement 
of  the  condition  of  the  Boston  banks,  made  up  in  January,  1814,  that  with 
nearly  $5,000,000  of  specie  in  their  vaults,  they  had  but  82,000,000  of  bills 
in  circulation.  It  is  added  by  Carey,  that  at  this  very  time  an  extensive  trade 
was  carried  on  in  British  government  bills,  for  which  specie  was  sent  to  Canada, 
for  the  payment  of  the  British  troops,  then  laying  waste  our  northern  frontier ; 
and  this  too  at  the  very  moment  when  New  England  ships,  sailing  under 
British  licenses,  (a  trade  declared  to  be  lawful  by  the  courts  both  of  Great 
Britain,  and  Massachusetts,*)  were  supplying  with  provisions  those  very  armies 
destined  for  the  invasion  of  our  own  shores.  Sir,  the  author  of  the  Olive 
Branch,  with  a  holy  indignation,  denounces  these  acts  as  "treasonable;" 
"  giving  aid  and  comfort  to  the  enemy."  I  shall  not  follow  his  example.  But 
I  will  ask,  With  what  justice  or  propriety  can  the  south  be  accused  of  disloyalty 
from  that  quarter  ?  If  we  had  any  evidence  that  the  senator  from  Massachu 
setts  had  admonished  his  brethren  then,  he  might,  with  a  better  grace,  assume 
the  office  of  admonishing  us  now. 

When  I  looked  at  the  mesaures  adopted  in  Boston,  at  that  day,  to  deprive 
the  government  of  the  necessary  means  for  carrying  on  the  war,  and  think  of 
the  success  and  the  consequences  of  those  measures,  I  feel  my  pride,  as  an 
American,  humbled  in  the  dust.  Hear,  sir,  the  language  of  that  day.  I  read 
from  pages  301  and  302  of  the  Olive  Branch.  "Let  no  man  who  wishes  to 
continue  the  war,  by  active  means,  by  vote,  or  lending  money,  dare  to  pros 
trate  himself  at  the  altar  on  the  fast  day."  "Will  federalists  subscribe  to  the 
loan  ?  Will  they  lend  money  to  our  national  rulers  ?  It  is  impossible.  First, 
because  of  principle,  and  secondly,  because  of  principal  and  interest."  "  Do 
not  prevent  the  abusers  of  their  trust  from  becoming  bankrupt.  Do  not  pre 
vent  them  from  becoming  odious  to  the  public,  and  being  replaced  by  better 
men."  "Any  federalist  who  lends  money  to  government  must  go  and  shake 
hands  with  James  Madison,  and  claim  fellowship  with  Felix  Grundy."  (I  beg 
pardon  of  my  honorable  friend  from  Tennessee  —  but  he  is  in  good  company. 
I  had  thought  it  was  James  Madison,  Felix  Grundy,  and  the  devil.")  Let 
him  no  more  "  call  himself  a  federalist,  and  a  friend  to  his  country :  he  will 
be  called  by  others  infamous,"  <fec. 

Sir,  the  spirit  of  the  people  sunk  under  these  appeals.  Such  was  the  effect 
produced  by  them  on  the  public  mind,  that  the  very  agents  of  the  government 
(as  appears  from  their  public  advertisements,  now  before  me)  could  not  obtain 
loans  without  a  pledge  that  "the  names  of  the  subscribers  should  not  be 
known."  Here  are  the  advertisements :  "  The  names  of  all  subscribers  "  (say 

*  2d  Dodson's  Admiralty  Reports,  48.    13th  Mass.  Reports,  26. 


168 

Gilbert  and  Dean,  the  brokers  employed  by  government)  "  shall  be  known 
only  to  the  undersigned."  As  if  those  who  came  forward  to  aid  their  coun 
try,  in  the  hour  of  her  utmost  need,  were  engaged  in  some  dark  and  foul  con 
spiracy,  they  were  assured  "  that  their  names  should  not  be  known."  Can 
any  thing  show  more  conclusively  the  unhappy  state  of  public  feeling  which 
prevailed  at  that  day  than  this  single  fact  ?  Of  the  same  character  with  these 
measures  was  the  conduct  of  Massachusetts  in  withholding  her  militia  from 
the  service  of  the  United  States,  and  devising  measures  for  withdrawing  her 
quota  of  the  taxes,  thereby  attempting,  not  merely  to  cripple  the  resources  of 
the  country,  but  actually  depriving  the  government  (as  far  as  depended  upon 
her)  of  all  the  means  of  carrying  on  the  war  —  of  the  bone,  and  muscle,  and 
sinews  of  war  —  "of  man  and  steel  —  the  soldier  and  his  sword."  But  it 
seems  Massachusetts  was  to  reserve  her  resources  for  herself — she  was  to 
defend  and  protect  her  own  shores.  And  how  was  that  duty  performed  ?  In 
some  places  on  the  coast  neutrality  was  declared,  and  the  enemy  was  suffered 
to  invade  the  soil  of  Massachusetts,  and  allowed  to  occupy  her  territory  until 
the  peace,  without  one  effort  to  rescue  it  from  his  grasp.  Nay,  more  —  while 
our  own  government  and  our  rulers  were  considered  as  enemies,  the  troops  of 
the  enemy  were  treated  like  friends  —  the  most  intimate  commercial  relations 
were  established  with  them,  and  maintained  up  to  the  peace.  At  this  dark 
period  of  our  national  affairs,  where  was  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  ?  How 
were  his  political  associates  employed •?  "Calculating  the  value  of  the  Union  ?" 
Yes,  sir,  that  was  the  propitious  moment,  when  our  country  stood  alone,  the 
last  hope  of  the  world,  struggling  for  her  existence  against  the  colossal  power 
of  Great  Britain,  "  concentrated  in  one  mighty  effort  to  crush  us  at  a  blow ; " 
that  was  the  chosen  hour  to  revive  the  grand  scheme  of  building  up  "  a  great 
northern  confederacy  "  —  a  scheme  which,  it  is  stated  in  the  work  before  me, 
had  its  origin  as  far  back  as  the  year  1796,  and  which  appears  never  to  have 
been  entirely  abandoned. 

In  the  language  of  the  writers  of  that  day,  (1796,)  "rather  than  have  a 
constitution  such  as  the  anti-federalists  were  contending  for,  (such  as  wre  are 
now  contending  for,)  the  Union  ought  to  be  dissolved  ;"„  and  to  prepare  the 
way  for  that  measure,  the  same  methods  were  resorted  to  then  that  have 
always  been  relied  on  for  that  purpose,  exciting  prejudice  against  the  south. 
Yes,  sir,  our  northern  brethren  were  then  told,  "  that  if  the  negroes  were 
good  for  food,  their  southren  masters  would  claim  the  right  to  destroy  them 
at  pleasure"  (Olive  Branch,  p.  267.)  Sir,  in  1814,  all  these  topics  were 
revived.  Again  we  hear  of  "  a  northern  confederacy."  "  The  slave  states  by 
themselves;"  "  the  mountains  are  the  natural  boundary:"  we  want  neither 
"  the  counsels  nor  the  power  of  the  west,"  &c.,  &c.  The  papers  teemed 
with  accusations  against  the  south  and  the  west,  and  the  calls  for  a  dissolution 
of  all  connection  with  them  were  loud  and  strong.  I  cannot  consent  to  go 
through  the  disgusting  details.  But  to  show  the  height  to  which  the  spirit 
of  disaffection  was  carried,  I  will  take  you  to  the  temple  of  the  living  God, 
and  show  you  that  sacred  place,  which  should  be  devoted  to  the  extension 
of  "  peace  on  earth  and  good  will  towards  men,"  where  "  one  day's  truce 
ought  surely  to  be  allowed  to  dissensions  and  animosities  of  mankind,"  con 
verted  into  a  fierce  arena  of  political  strife,  where,  from  the  lips  of  the  priest, 
standing  between  the  horns  of  the  altar,  there  went  forth  the  most  terrible 
denunciations  against  all  who  should  be  true  to  their  country  in  the  hour  of 
her  utmost  need. 

"  If  you  do  not  wish,"  said  a  reverend  clergyman,  in  a  sermon  preached  in 


159* 

Boston,  on  the  23d  July,  1812,  "to  become  the  slaves  of  those  who  own 
slaves,  and  who  are  themselves  the  slave  of  French  slaves,  you  must  either, 
in  the  language  of  the  day,  CUT  THE  CONNECTION,  cr  so  far  alter  the  national 
compact  as  to  insure  to  yourselves  a  clue  share  in  the  government."  [Olive 
Branch,  p.  319.]  "The  Union,"  says  the  same  writer,  [p.  320,]  "has  been 
long  since  virtually  dissolved,  and  it  is  full  time  that  this  part  of  the  disunited 
states  should  take  care  of  itself." 

Another  reverend  gentleman,  pastor  of  a  church  at  Medford,  [p.  321,] 
issues  his  anathema — "  LET  HIM  STAND  ACCURSED" —  against  all,  all  who,  by 
their  "  personal  services,"  for  "  loans  of  money,"  "  conversation,"  or  "  writing," 
or  "  influence,"  give  countenance  or  support  to  the  unrighteous  war,  in  the 
following  terms :  "  That  man  is  an  accomplice  in  the  wickedness  —  he  loads 
his  conscience  with  the  blackest  crimes  —  he  brings  the  guilt  of  blood  upon 
his  soul,  and  in  the  sight  of  God  and  his  law,  he  is  a  MURDERER.' 

One  or  two  more  quotations,  sir,  and  I  shall  have  done.  A  reverend 
doctor  of  divinity,  the  pastor  of  a  church  at  Byfield,  Massachusetts,  on  the 
7th  of  April,  1814,  thus  addresses  his  flock,  [p.  321  :]  "  The  Israelites  became 
weary  of  yielding  the  fruit  of  their  labor  to  pamper  their  splendid  tyrants. 
They  left  their  political  woes.  THEY  SEPARATED;  where  is  our  Moses? 
Where  the  rod  of  his  miracles  ?  Where  is  our  Aaron  ?  Alas !  no  voice  from 
the  burning  bush  has  directed  them  here." 

"  We  must  trample  on  the  mandates  of  despotism,  or  remain  slaves  for 
ever,"  [p.  322.]  "You  must  drag  the  chains  of  Virginian  despotism,  unless 
you  discover  some  other  mode  of  escape."  "  Those  Western  States  which 
have  been  violent  for  this  abominable  war  —  those  states  which  have  thirsted 
for  blood —  God  has  given  them  blood  to  drink."  [p.  323.]  Mr.  President, 
I  can  go  no  further.  The  records  of  the  day  are  full  of  such  sentiments, 
issued  from  the  press,  spoken  in  public  assemblies,  poured  out  from  the  sacred 
desk.  God  forbid,  sir,  that  I  should  charge  the  people  of  Massachusetts  with 
participating  in  these  sentiments.  The  sovith  and  the  west  had  there  their 
friends  —  men  who  stood  by  their  country,  though  encompassed  all  around 
by  their  enemies.  The  senator  from  Masschusetts  [Mr.  Silsbee]  was  one  of 
them  :  the  senator  from  Connecticut  [Mr.  Foot]  was  another;  and  there  are 
others  now  on  this  floor.  The  sentiments  I  have  read  were  the  sentiments 
of  a  party  embracing  the  political  associates  of  the  gentleman  from  Massachu 
setts.  If  they  could  only  be  found  in  the  columns  of  a  newspaper,  in  a  few 
occasional  pamphlets,  issued  by  men  of  intemperate  feeling,  I  should  not  con 
sider  them  as  affording  any  evidence  of  the  opinions  even  of  the  peace  party 
of  New  England.  But,  sir,  they  were  the  common  language  of  that  day; 
they  pervaded  the  whole  land;  they  were  issued  from  the  legislative  hall, 
from  the  pulpit,  and  the  press.  Our  books  are  full  of  them;  and  there  is  no 
man  who  now  hears  me  but  knows  that  they  were  the  sentiments  of  a  party, 
by  whose  members  they  were  promulgated.  Indeed,  no  evidence  of  this 
would  seem  to  be  required  beyond  the  fact  that  such  sentiments  found  their 
way  even  into  the  pulpits  of  New  England.  What  must  be  the  state  of  pub 
lic  opinion,  where  any  respectable  clergyman  would  venture  to  preach,  and 
to  print,  sermons  containing  the  sentiments  I  have  quoted  ?  I  doubt  not  the 
piety  or  moral  worth  of  these  gentlemen.  I  am  told  they  were  respectable 
and  pious  men.  But  they  were  men,  and  they  "kindled  in  a  common  blaze." 
And  now,  sir,  I  must  be  suffered  to  remark  that,  at  this  awful  and  melancholy 
period  of  our  national  history,  the  gentleman  from  Massachusetts,  who  now 
manifests  so  great  a  devotion  to  the  Union,  and  so  much  anxiety  lest  it 


160 

should  be  endangered  from  the  south,  was  "  with  his  brother  in  Israel."'  Ho 
saw  all  these  things  passing  before  his  eyes  —  he  heard  these  sentiments 
uttered  all  around  him.  I  do  not  charge  that  gentleman  with  any  partici 
pation  in  these  acts,  or  with  approving  of  these  sentiments. 

But  I  will  ask,  why,  if  he  was  animated  by  the  same  sentiments  then  which 
he  now  professes,  if  he  can  "  augur  disunion  at  a  distance,  and  snuft'  tip  re 
bellion  in  every  tainted  breeze,"  why  did  he  not  at  that  day,  exert  his  great 
talents  and  acknowledged  influence  with  the  political  associates  by  whom  lie 
was  surrounded,  and  who  then,  as  DOW,  looked  up  to  him  for  guidance  and 
direction,  in  allaying  this  general  excitement,  in  pointing  out  to  his  deluded 
friends  the^alue  of  the  Union,  in  instructing  them  that,  instead  of  looking 
"  to  some  prophet  to  lead  them  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt,"  they  should 
become  reconciled  to  their  brethren,  and  unite  with  them  in  the  support  of  a 
just  and  necessary  war  ?  Sir,  the  gentleman  mnst  excuse  me  for  saying,  that 
if  the  records  of  our  country  afforded  any  evidence  that  he  had  pursued  such 
a  course,  then,  if  we  could  find  it  recorded  in  the  history  of  those  times,  that 
like  the  immortal  Dexter,  he  had  breasted  that  mighty  torrent  which  was 
sweeping  before  it  all  that  was  great  and  valuable  in  our  political  institutions, 
if  like  him  he  had  stood  by  his  country  in  opposition  to  his  party,  sir,  we 
would,  like  little  children,  listen  to  his  precepts,  and  abide  by  his  counsels. 

As  soon  as  the  public  mind  was  sufficiently  prepared  for  the  measure,  the 
celebrated  Hartford  Convention  was  got  up;  not  as  the  act  of  a  few  unauthor 
ized  individuals,  but  by  authority  of  the  legislature  of  Massachusetts;  and,  as 
has  been  shown  by  the  able  historian  of  that  convention,  in  accordance  with 
the  views  and  wishes  of  the  party  of  which  it  was  the  organ.  Now,  sir,  I  do 
not  desire  to  call  in  question  the  motives  of  the  gentlemen  who  composed  that 
assembly.  I  know  many  of  them  to  be  in  private  life  accomplished  and 
honorable  men,  and  I  doubt  not  there  were  some  among  them  who  did  not 
perceive  the  dangerous  tendency  of  their  proceedings.  I  will  even  go  further, 
and  say,  that  if  the  authors  of  the  Hartford  Convention  believed  that  "  gross, 
deliberate,  and  palpable  violations  of  the  constitution"  had  taken  place,  utterly 
destructive  of  their  rights  and  interests,  I  should  be  the  last  man  to  deny  their 
rights  to  resort  to  any  constitutional  measures  for  redress.  But,  sir,  in  any 
view  of  the  case,  the  time  when  and  the  circumstances  under  which  that  con 
vention  assembled,  as  well  as  the  measures  recommended,  render  their  con 
duct,  in  my  opinion,  wholly  indefensible.  Let  us  contemplate,  for  a  moment, 
the  spectacle  then  exhibited  to  the  view  of  the  world.  I  will  not  go  over  the 
disasters  of  the  war,  nor  describe  the  difficulties  in  which  the  government  was 
involved.  It  will  be  recollected  that  its  credit  was  nearly  gone,  Washington 
had  fallen,  the  whole  coast  was  blockaded,  and  an  immense  force,  collected  in 
the  West  Indies,  was  about  to  make  a  descent,  which  it  was  supposed  we  had 
no  means  of  resisting.  In  this  awful  state  of  our  public  affairs,  when  the 
government  seemed  almost  to  be  tottering  on  its  base,  when  Great  Britain, 
relieved  from  all  her  other  enemies,  had  proclaimed  her  purpose  of  "  reducing 
us  to  unconditional  submission,"  we  beheld  the  peace  party  of  New  England 
(in  the  language  of  the  work  before  us)  pursuing  a  course  calculated  to  do 
more  injury  to  their  country  and  to  render  England  more  effective  service 
than  all  her  armies."  Those  who  could  not  find  it  in  their  hearts  to  rejoice 
at  our  victories  sang  Te  Deum  at  the  King's  Chapel  in  Boston,  for  the  restora 
tion  of  the  Bourbons.  Those  who  could  not  consent  to  illuminate  their  dwell 
ings  for  the  capture  of  the  Guerriere  could  give  no  visible  tokens  of  their  joy 
at  the  fall  of  Detroit.  The  "  beacon  fires"  of  their  hills  were  lighted  up,  not 


161 

for  the  encouragement  of  their  friends,  but  as  signals  to  the  enemy ;  and  in 
the  gloomy  hours  of  midnight,  the  very  lights  burned  blue.  Such  were  the 
dark  and  portentous  signs  of  the  times,  which  ushered  into  being  the  renowned 
Hartford  Convention.  That  convention  met,  and,  from  their  proceedings,  it 
appears  that  their  chief  object  was  to  keep  back  the  men  and  money  of  New 
England  from  the  service  of  the  Union,  and  to  effect  radical  changes  in  the 
government  —  changes  that  can  never  be  effected  without  a  dissolution  of  the 
Union. 

Let  us  now,  sir,  look  at  their  proceedings.  I  read  from  "A  Short  Account 
of  the  Hartford  Convention,"  (written  by  one  of  its  members,)  a  very  rare 
book,  of  which  I  was  fortunate  enough,  a  few  years  ago,  to  obtain  a  copy. 
[Here  Mr.  H.  read  from  the  proceedings.*] 

It  is  unnecessary  to  trace  the  matter  further,  or  to  ask  what  would  have 
been  the  next  chapter  in  this  history,  if  the  measures  recommended  had  been 
carried  into  effect;  and  if,  with  the  men  and  money  of  New.England  withheld 

*  It  appears  at  p.  6  of  the  "Account "  that,  by  a  vote  of  the  House  of  RepreBenta- 
tives  of  Massachusetts,  (260  to  290,)  delegates  to  this  convention  were  ordered  to  be 
appointed  to  consult  upon  the  subject  "  of  their  public  grievances  and  concerns,"  and 
upon.  "  the  best  means  of  preserving  their  resources,"  and  for  procuring  a  revision  of 
the  constitution  of  the  United  States,  "  more  effectually  to  secure  the  support  and  at 
tachment  of  all  the  people,  by  placing  all  upon  the  basis  of  fair  representation." 

The  convention  assembled  at  Hartford  on  the  15th  December,  1814.  On  the  next 
day  it  was 

Resolved,  That  the  most  inviolable  secrecy  shall  be  observed  by  each  member  of 
this  convention,  including  the  secretary,  as  to  all  propositions,  debates  and  proceedings 
thereof,  until  this  injunction  shall  be  suspended  or  altered. 

On  the  24th  t»f  December,  the  committee  appointed  to  prepare  and  report  a  general 
project  of  such  measures  as  may  be  proper  lor  the  convention  to  adopt,  reported, 
among  other  things,  — 

"  1.  That  it  was  expedient  to  recommend  to  the  legislatures  of  the  states  the  adop 
tion  of  the  most  effectual  and  decisive  measures  to  protect  the  militia  of  the  states 
from  the  usurpations  contained  in  these  proceedings."  [The  proceedings  of  Congress 
and  tne  executive,  in  relation  to  the  militia  and  the  war.] 

"  2.  That  it  was  expedient  also  to  prepare  a  statement,  exhibiting  the  necessity 
which  the  improvidence  and  inability  of  the  general  government  have  imposed  upon, 
the  states  of  providing  for  their  own  defence,  and  the  impossibility  of  their  dis 
charging  this  duty,  and  at  the  same  time  fulfilling  the  requisitions  of  the  general 
government,  and  also  to  recommend  to  the  legislatures  of  the  several  states  to  make 
provision  for  mutual  defence,  and  to  make  an  earnest  application  to  the  government 
of  the  United  States,  with  a  view  to  some  arrangement  whereby  the  states  may  be 
enabled  to  retain  a  portion  of  the  taxes  levied  by  Congress,  for  the  purposes  of  self- 
defence,  and  for  the  reimbursement  of  expenses  already  incurred  on  account  of  the 
United  States. 

"  3.  That  it  is  expedient  to  recommend  to  the  several  state  legislatures  certain, 
amendments  to  the  constitution,  viz.,  — 

'  That  the  power  to  declare  or  make  war,  by  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  be 
restricted. 

•'  That  it  is  expedient  to  attempt  to  make  provision  for  restraining  Congress  in  the 
exercise  of  an  unlimited  power  to  malte  new  states,  and  admit  them  into  the  Union. 

"  That  an  amendment  be  proposed  respecting  slave  representation  aud  slave  taxa 
tion." 

On  the  29th  of  December,  1814,  it  was  proposed  "that  the  capacity  of  naturalized 
citizens  to  hold  oftices  of  trust,  honor,  or  profit  ought  to  be  restrained,"  <fec. 

The  subsequent  proceedings  are  not  given  at  large.  But  it  seems  that  the  report 
of  the  committee  was  adopted,  and  also  a  recommendation  of  certain  measures  (of  the 
character  of  which  we  are  not  informed)  to  the  states  for  their  mutual  defence  ;  and 
having  voted  that  the  injunction  of  secrecy,  in  regard  to  all  the  debates  and  proceed 
ings  of  the  convention,  (except  so  far  as  relates  to  the  re  port  fin  ally  adopted,)  be  con 
tinued,  the  convention  adjourned  sine  die,  out,  as  it  was  supposed,  to  meet  again  whea 
circumstances  should  require  it. 

11 


162 

» 

from  the  government  of  the  United  States,  she  had  been  withdrawn  from  the 
war;  if  New  Orleans  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy;  and  if,  without 
troops  and  almost  destitute  of  money,  the  Southern  and  the  Western  States 
had  been  thrown  upon  their  own  resources,  for  the  prosecution  of  the  war, 
and  the  recovery  of  New  Orleans. 

SiL  whatever  may  have  been  the  issue  of  the  contest^  the  Union  must  have 
been  dissolved.  But  a  wise  and  just  Providence,  which  "  shapes  our  ends, 
roughhew  them  as  we  will,"  gave  us  the  victory,  and  crowned  our  efforts  with 
a  glorious  peace.  The  ambassadors  of  Hartford  were  seen  retracing  their 
steps  from  Washington,  "  the  bearers  of  the  glad  tidings  of  great  joy."  Cour 
age  and  patriotism  triumphed  —  the  country  was  saved — the  Union  was  pre 
served.  And  are  we,  Mr.  President,  who  stood  by  our  country  then,  who 
threw  open  our  coffers,  who  bared  our  bosoms,  who  freely  perilled  all  in  that 
conflict,  to  be  reproached  with  want  of  attachment  to  the  Union  ?  If,  sir,  we 
are  to  have  lessons  of  patriotism  read  to  us,  they  must  come  from  a  different 
quarter.  The  senator  from  Massachusetts,  who  is  now  so  sensitive  on  all  sub 
jects  connected  with  the  Union,  seems  to  have  a  memory  forgetful  of  the 
political  events  that  have  passed  away.  I  must  therefore  refresh  his  recollec 
tion  a  little  further  on  these  subjects.  The  history  of  disunion  has  been  writ 
ten  by  one  whose  authority  stands  too  high  with  the  American  people  to  be 
questioned ;  I  mean  Thomas  Jefferson.  I  know  not  how  the  gentleman  may 
receive  this  authority.  When  that  great  and  good  man  occupied  the  presi 
dential  chair,  I  believe  he  commanded  no  portion  of  the  gentleman's  respect. 

I  hold  in  my  hand  a  celebrated  pamphlet  on  the  embargo,  in  which 
language  is  held,  in  relation  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  which  my  respect  for  his  mem 
ory  will  prevent  me  from  reading,  unless  any  gentleman  should  call  for  it. 
But  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  has  since  joined  in  singing  hosannas  to 
his  name ;  he  has  assisted  at  his  apotheosis,  and  has  fixed  him  as  "  a  brilliant 
star  in  the  clear  upper  sky."  I  hope,  therefore,  he  is  now  prepared  to  receive 
with  deference  and  respect  the  high  authority  of  Mr.  Jefferson.  In  the  fourth 
volume  of  his  Memoirs,  which  has  just  been  issued  from  the  press,  we  have  the 
following  history  of  disunion  from  the  pen  of  that  illustrious  statesman :  "  Mr. 
Adams  called  on  me  pending  the  embargo,  and  while  endeavors  were  making 
to  obtain  its  repeal :  he  spoke  of  the  dissatisfaction  of  the  eastern  portion  of 
our  confederacy  with  the  restraints  of  the  embargo  then  existing,  and  their 
restlessness  under  it;  that  there  was  nothing  which  might  not  be  attempted 
to  rid  themselves  of  it;  that  he  had  information  of  the  most  unquestionable 
authority,  that  certain  citizens  of  the  Eastern  States  (I  think  he  named  Mas 
sachusetts  particularly)  were  in  negotiation  with  agents  of  the  British  govern 
ment,  the  object  of  which  was  an  agreement  that  the  New  England  States 
should  take  no  further  part  in  the  war  (the  commercial  war,  the  *  war  of  re 
strictions,'  as  it  was  called)  then  going  on,  and  that,  without  formally  declaring 
their  separation  from  the  Union,  they  should  withdraw  from  all  aid  and  obe 
dience  to  them,  &c.  From  that  moment,"  says  Mr.  J.,  "  I  saw  the  necessity 
of  abandoning  it,  [the  embargo,]  and,  instead  of  effecting  our  purpose  by  this 
peaceful  measure,  we  must  fight  it  out  or  break  the  Union."  In  another  letter, 
Mr.  Jefferson  adds,  "  I  doubt  whether  a  single  fact  known  to  the  world  will 
carry  as  clear  conviction  to  it  of  the  correctness  of  our  knowledge  of  the  trea 
sonable  views  of  the  federal  party  of  that  day,  as  that  disclosed  by  this,  the 
most  nefarious  and  daring  attempt  to  dissever  the  Union,  of  which  the  Hart 
ford  Convention  was  a  subsequent  chapter;  and  both  of  these  having  failed, 
consolidation  becomes  the  fourth  chapter  of  the  next  book  of  their  history. 


163 

But  this  opens  with  a  vast  accession  of  strength,  from  their  younger  recruits, 
who,  having  nothing  in  them  of  the  feelings  and  principles  of  '76,  now  look 
to  a  single  and  splendid  government,  &c.,  riding  and  ruling  over  the  plundered 
ploughman  and  beggared  yeomanry."  '(Vol.  iv.  pp.  419,  422.) 

The  last  chapter,  says  Mr.  Jefferson,  of  that  history,  is  to  be  found  in  the 
conduct  of  those  who  are  endeavoring  to  bring  about  consolidation;  aye,  sir, 
that  very  consolidation  for  which  the  gentleman  from  Massachusetts  is-  con 
tending —  the  exercise  by  the  federal  government  of  powers  not  delegated  in 
relation  to  "internal  improvements"  and  "the  protection  of  manufactures." 
And  why,  sir,  does  Mr.  Jefferson  consider  consolidation  as  leading  directly  to 
disunion  ?  Because  he  knew  that  the  exercise,  by  the  federal  government,  of 
the  powers  contended  for,  would  make  this  "  a  government  without  limitation 
of  powers,"  the  submission  to  which  he  considered  as  a  greater  evil  than  dis 
union  itself.  There  is  one  chapter  in  this  history,  however,  which  Mr.  ^  Jeffer 
son  has  not  filled  up ;  and  I  must  therefore  supply  the  deficiency.  It  is  to  be 
found  in  the  protests  made  by  New  England  against  the  acquisition  of  Louis 
iana.  In  relation  to  that  subject,  the  New  England  doctrine  is  thus  laid  down 
by  one  of  her  learned  doctors  of  that  day,  now  a  doctor  of  laws,  at  the  head 
of  the  great  literary  institution  of  the  east;  I  mean  Josiah  Quincy,  president 
of  Harvard  College.  I  quote  from  the  speech  delivered  by  that  gentleman 
on  the  floor  of  Congress,  on  the  occasion  of  the  admission  of  Louisiana  into 
the  Union. 

"  Mr.  Quincy  repeated  and  justified  a  remark  he  had  made,  which,  to  save 
all  misapprehension,  he  had  committed  to  writing  in  the  following  words :  If 
this  bill  passes,  it  is  my  deliberate  opinion  that  it  is  virtually  a  dissolution  of 
the  Union ;  that  it  will  free  the  States  from  their  moral  obligation ;  and  as  it 
will  be  the  right  of  all,  so  it  will  be  the  duty  of  some,  to  prepare  for  a  sepa 
ration,  amicably  if  they  can,  violently  if  they  must." 

Mr.  President,  I  wish  it  to  be  distinctly  understood,  that  all  the  remarks  I 
have  made  on  this  subject  are  intended  to  be  exclusively  applied  to  a  party, 
which  I  have  described  as  the  "  peace  party  of  New  England"  —  embracing 
the  political  associates  of  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  —  a  party  which 
controlled  the  operations  of  that  state  during  the  embargo  and  the  war,  and 
who  are  justly  chargeable  with  all  the  measures  I  have  reprobated.  Sir, 
nothing  has  been  further  from  my  thoughts  than  to  impeach  the  character  or 
conduct  of  the  people  of  New;  England.  For  their  steady  habits  and  hardy- 
virtues  I  trust  I  entertain  a  becoming  respect.  I  fully  subscribe  to  the  truth 
of  the  description  given  before  the  revolution,  by  one  whose  praise  is  the  high 
est  eulogy,  "  that  the  perseverance  of  Holland,  the  activity  of  France,  and  the 
dexterous  and  firm  sagacity  of  English  enterprise,  have  been  more  than 
equalled  by  this  recent  people."  Hardy,  enterprising,  sagacious,  industrious, 
and  moral,  the  people  of  New  England  of  the  present  day  are  worthy  of  iheir 
ancestors.  Still  less,  Mr.  President,  has  it  been  my  intention  to  say  anything 
that  could  be  construed  into  a  want  of  respect  for  that  party,  who,  trampling 
on  all  narrow,  sectional  feeling,  have  been  true  to  their  principles  in  the  worst 
•of  times;  I  mean  the  democracy  of  New  England. 

Sir,  I  will  declare  that,  highly  as  I  appreciate  the  democracy  of  the  south, 
I  consider  even  higher  praise  to  be  due  to  the  democracy  of  New  England, 
v,  ho  have  maintained  their  principles  "  through  good  add  through  evil  report," 
who,  at  every  period  of  our  national  history,  have  stood  up  manfully  for  "  their 
country,  their  whole  country,  and  nothing  but  their  country."  In  the  great 
political  revolution  of  '98,  they  were  found  united  with  the  democracy  of  the 


164 

south,  marching  under  the  banner  of  the  constitution,  led  on  by  the  patriarch 
of  liberty,  in  search  of  the  land  of  political  promise,  which  they  lived  not  only 
to  behold,  but  to  possess  and  to  enjoy.  Again,  sir,  in  the  darkest  and  most 
gloomy  period  of  the  war,  when  our  country  stood  single-handed  against  "  the 
conqueror  of  the  conquerors  of  the  world,"  when  all  about  and  around  them 
was  dark  and  dreary,  disastrous  and  discouraging,  they  stood  a  Spartan  band 
in  that  narrow  pass,  where  the  honor  of  their  country  was  to  be  defended,  or 
to  find  its  grave.  And  in  the  last  great  struggle,  involving,  as  we  believe,  the 
very  existence  of  the  principle  of  popular  sovereignty,  where  were  the  demo 
cracy  of  New  England  ?  Where  they  always  have  been  found,  sir,  struggling 
side  by  side,  with  their  brethren  of  the  south  and  the  west,  for  popular  rights, 
and  assisting  in  that  glorious  triumph,  by  which  the  man  of  the  people  was 
elevated  to  the  highest  office  in  their  gift. 

Who,  then,  Mr.  President,  are  the  true  friends  of  the  Union  ?  Those  who 
would  confine  the  federal  government  strictly  within  the  limits  prescribed  by 
the  constitution ;  who  would  preserve  to  the  states  and  the  people  all  powers 
not  expressly  delegated ;  who  would  make  this  a  federal  and  not  a  national 
Union,  and  who,  administering  the  government  in  a  spirit  of  equal  justice, 
would  make  it  a  blessing,  and  not  a  curse.  And  who  are  its  enemies  ?  Those 
who  are  in  favor  of  consolidation ;  who  are  constantly  stealing  power  from  the 
states,  and  adding  strength  to  the  federal  government;  who,  assuming  an  un 
warrantable  jurisdiction  over  the  states  and  the  people,  undertake  to  regulate 
the  whole  industry  and  capital  of  the  country.  But,  sir,  of  all  descriptions 
of  men,  I  consider  those  as  the  worst  enemies  of  the  Union,  who  sacrifice  the 
equal  rights  which  belong  to  every  member  of  the  confederacy  to  combina 
tions  of  interested  majorities,  for  personal  or  political  objects.  But  the  gentle 
man  apprehends  no  evil  from  the  dependence  of  the  states  on  the  federal 
government;  he  can  see  no  danger  of  corruption  from  the  influence  of  money 
or  of  patronage.  Sir,  I  know  that  it  is  supposed  to  be  a  wise  saying  that 
"patronage  is  a  source  of  weakness;"  and  in  support  of  that  maxim,  it  has 
been  said,  that  "  every  ten  appointments  make  a  hundred  enemies."  But  I 
am  rather  inclined  to  think,  with  the  eloquent  and  sagacious  orator  now  repo 
sing  on  his  laurels  on  the  banks  of  the  Roanoke,  that  "  the  power  of  confer 
ring  favors  creates  a  crowd  of  dependants;"  he  gave  a  forcible  illustration  of 
the  truth  of  the  remark,  when  he  told  us  of  the  effect  of  holding  up  the  savory 
morsel  to  the  eager  eyes  of  the  hungry  hounds  gathered  around  his  door.  It 
mattered  not  whether  the  gift  was  bestowed  on  Towzer  or  Sweetlips,  "  Tray, 
Blanch,  or  Sweetheart;"  while  held  in  suspense,  they  were  all  governed  by  a 
nod,  and  when  the  morsel  was  bestowed,  the  expectation  of  the  favors  of  to 
morrow  kept  up  the  subjection  of  to-day. 

The  senator  from  Massachusetts,  in  denouncing  what  he  is  pleased  to  call 
the  Carolina  doctrine,  has  attempted  to  throw  ridicule  upon  the  idea  that  a 
state  has  any  constitutional  remedy,  by  the  exercise  of  its  sovereign  authority, 
against  "a  gross,  palpable,  and  deliberate  violation  of  the  constitution."  He 
calls  it  "  an  idle  "  or  "  a  ridiculous  notion,"  or  something  to  that  effect,  and 
added,  that  it  would  make  the  Union  a  u  mere  rope  of  sand."  Now,  sir,  as 
the  gentleman  has  not  condescended  to  enter  into  any  examination  of  the 
question,  and  has  been  satisfied  with  throwing  the  weight  of  his  authority 
into  the  scale,  I  do  not  deem  it  necessary  to  do  more  than  to  throw  into  the 
opposite  scale  the  authority  on  which  South  Carolina  relies;  and  there,  for  the 
present,  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  leave  the  controversy.  The  South  Carolina 
doctrine,  that  is  to  say,  the  doctrine  contained  in  an  exposition  reported  by  a 


165 

committee  of  the  legislature  in  December,  1828,  and  published  by  their 
authority,  is  the  good  old  republican  doctrine  of  '98  —  the  doctrine  of  the 
celebrated  "Virginia  Resolutions"  of  that  year,  and  of  "Madison's  Report" 
of  '99.  It  will  be  recollected  that  the  legislature  of  Virginia,  in  December, 
'98,  took  into  consideration  the  alien  and  sedition  laws,  then  considered  by  all 
republicans  as  a  gross  violation  of  the  constitution  of  the  United  States,  and 
on  that  day  passed,  among  others,  the  following  resolutions :  — 

"  The  General  Assembly  doth  explicitly  and  peremptorily  declare,  that  it 
views  the  powers  of  the  federal  government,  as  resulting  from  the  compact  to 
which  the  states  are  parties,  as  limited  by  the  plain  sense  and  intention  of  the 
instrument  constituting  that  compact,  as  no  further  valid  than  they  are  author 
ized  by  the  grants  enumerated  in  that  compact;  and  that  in  case  of  a  delibe 
rate,  palpable,  and  dangerous  exercise  of  other  powers  not  granted  by  the  said 
compact,  the  states  who  are  parties  thereto  have  the  right,  and  are  in  duty 
bound,  to  interpose  for  arresting  the  progress  of  the  evil,  and  for  maintaining, 
within  their  respective  limits,  the  authorities,  rights,  and  liberties  appertaining 
to  them." 

In  addition  to  the  above  resolution,  the  General  Assembly  of  Virginia 
"  appealed  to  the  other  states,  in  the  confidence  that  they  would  concur  with 
that  commonwealth,  that  the  acts  aforesaid  [the  alien  and  sedition  laws]  are 
unconstitutional,  and  that  the  necessary  and  proper  measures  would  be  taken 
by  each  for  co-operating  with  Virginia  in  maintaining  unimpaired  the  author 
ities,  rights,  and  liberties  reserved  to  the  states  respectively,  or  to  the  people." 

The  legislatures  of  several  of  the  New  England  States,  having,  contrary  to 
the  expectation  of  the  legislature  of  Virginia,  expressed  their  dissent  from 
these  doctrines,  the  subject  came  up  again  for  consideration  during  the  session 
of  1799,  1800,  when  it  was  referred  to  a  select  committee,  by  whom  was 
made  that  celebrated  report  which  is  familiarly  known  as  "  Madison's  Report," 
and  which  deserves  to  last  as  long  as  the  constitution  itself.  In  that  report, 
which  was  subsequently  adopted  by  the  legislature,  the  whole  subject  was  de 
liberately  re-examined,  and  the  objections  urged  against  the  Virginia  doctrines 
carefully  considered.  The  result  was,  that  the  legislature  of  Virginia  re-affirmed 
all  the  principles  laid  down  in  the  resolutions  of  1798,  and  issued  to  the  world 
that  admirable  report  which  has  stamped  the  character  of  Mr.  Madison  as 
the  preserver  of  that  constitution  which  he  had  contributed  so  largely  to  create 
and  establish.  I  will  here  quote  from  Mr.  Madison's  report  one  or  two  passa 
ges  which  bear  more  immediately  on  the  point  in  controversy.  "The  resolu 
tions,  having  taken  this  view  of  the  federal  compact,  proceed  to  infer  'that  in 
case  of  a  deliberate,  palpable,  and  dangerous  exercise  of  other  powers,  not 
granted  by  the  said  compact,  the  states  who  are  parties  thereto  have  the  right^ 
and  are  in  duty  bound,  to  interpose  for  arresting  the  progress  of  the  evil,  and 
for  maintaining,  within  their  respective  limits,  the  authorities,  rights,  and  lib 
erties  appertaining  to  them.'" 

"  It  appears  to  your  committee  to  be  a  plain  principle,  founded  in  common 
sense,  illustrated  by  common  practice,  and  essential  to  the  nature  of  compacts, 
that,  where  resort  can  be  had  to  no  tribunal  superior  to  the  authority  of  the 
parties,  the  parties  themselves  must  be  the  rightful  judges  in  the  last  resort, 
whether  the  bargain  made  has  been  pursued  or  violated.  The  constitution  of 
the  United  States  was  formed  by  the  sanction  of  the  states,  given  by  each  in 
its  sovereign  capacity.  It  adds  to  the  stability  and  dignity,  as  well  as  to  the 
authority,  of  the  constitution,  that  it  rests  upon  this  legitimate  and  solid  found 
ation.  The  states,  then,  being  the  parties  to  the  constitutional  compact,  and 


166 

in  their  sovereign  capacity,  it  follows  of  necessity  that  there  can  be  no  tribunal 
above  their  authority,  to  decide,  in  the  last  resort,  whether  the  compact  made 
by  them  be  violated,  and  consequently  that,  as  the  parties  to  it,  they  must 
themselves  decide,  in  the  last  resort,  such  questions  as  may  be  of  sufficient 
magnitude  to  require  their  interposition." 

"  The  resolution  has  guarded  against  any  misapprehension  of  its  object  by 
expressly  requiring  for  such  an  interposition  *  the  case  of  a  deliberate,  palpable, 
and  dangerous  breach  of  the  constitution,  by  the  exercise  of  powers  not  granted 
by  it.'  It  must  be  a  case,  not  of  a  light  and  transient  nature,  but  of  a  nature 
dangerous  to  the  great  purposes  for  which  the  constitution  was  established. 

"  But  the  resolution  has  done  more  than  guard  against  misconstruction,  by 
expressly  referring  to  cases  of  a  deliberate,  palpable,  and  dangerous  nature.  It 
specifies  the  object  of  the  interposition,  which  it  contemplates,  to  be  solely 
that  of  arresting  the  progress  of  the  evil  of  usurpation,  and  of  maintaining  the 
authorities,  rights,  and  liberties  appertaining  to  the  states,  as  parties  to  the 
constitution. 

"  From  this  view  of  the  resolution,  it  would  seem  inconceivable  that  it  can 
incur  any  just  disapprobation  from  those  who,  laying  aside  all  momentary 
impressions,  and  recollecting  the  genuine  source  and  object  of  the  federal 
constitution,  shall  candidly  and  accurately  interpret  the  meaning  of  the  Gen 
eral  Assembly.  If  the  deliberate  exercise  of  dangerous  powers,  palpably 
withheld  by  the  constitution,  could  not  justify  the  parties  to  it  in  interposing 
even  so  far  as  to  arrest  the  progress  of  the  evil,  and  thereby  to  preserve  the 
constitution  itself,  as  well  as  to  provide  for  the  safety  of  the  parties  to  it,  there 
would  be  an  end  to  all  relief  from  usurped  power,  and  a  direct  subversion  of 
the  rights  specified  or  recognized  under  all  the  state  constitutions,  as  well  as 
a  plain  denial  of  the  fundamental  principles  on  which  our  independence  itself 
was  declared." 

But,  sir,  our  authorities  do  not  stop  here.  The  state  of  Kentucky  responded 
to  Virginia,  and  on  the  10th  November,  1798,  adopted  those  celebrated  reso 
lutions,  well  known  to  have  been  penned  by  the  author  of  the  Declaration 
of  American  Independence.  In  those  resolutions,  the  legislature  of  Kentucky 
declare,  "  that  the  government  created  by  this  compact  was  not  made  the  ex 
clusive  or  final  judge  of  the  extent  of  the  powers  delegated  to  itself,  since  that 
would  have  made  its  discretion,  and  not  the  constitution,  the  measure  of  its 
powers ;  but  that,  as  in  all  other  cases  of  compact  among  parties  having  no 
common  judge,  each  party  has  an  equal  right  to  judge,  for  itself,  as  well  of 
infractions  as  of  the  mode  and  measure  of  redress." 

At  the  ensuing  session  of  the  legislature,  the  subject  was  re-examined,  and 
on  the  14th  of  November,  1799,  the  resolutions  of  the  preceding  year  were 
deliberately  re-affirmed,  and  it  was,  among  other  things,  solemnly  declared, — 
"  That,  if  those  who  administer  the  general  government  be  permitted  to 
transgress  the  limits  fixed  by  that  compact,  by  a  total  disregard  to  the  special 
delegations  of  power  therein  contained,  an  annihilation  of  the  state  govern 
ments,  and  the  erection  upon  their  ruins  of  a  general  consolidated  govern 
ment,  will  be  the  inevitable  consequence.  That  the  principles  of  construction 
contended  for  by  sundry  of  the  state  legislatures,  that  the  general  government 
is  the  exclusive  judge  of  the  extent  of  the  powers  delegated  to  it,  stop  nothing 
short  of  despotism ;  since  the  discretion  of  those  who  administer  the  govern 
ment,  and  not  the  constitution,  would  be  the  measure  of  their  powers.  That 
the  several  states  who  formed  that  instrument,  being  sovereign  and  independ 
ent,  have  the  unquestionable  right  to  judge  of  ^its  infraction,  and  that  a  mil- 


167 

lification,  by  those  sovereignties,  of  all  unauthorized  acts  done  under  color  of 
that  instrument,  is  the  rightful  remedy." 

Time  and  experience  confirmed  Mr.  Jefferson's  opinion  on  this  all  important 
point.  In  the  year  1821,  he  expressed  himself  in  this  emphatic  manner :  "  It 
is  a  fatal  heresy  to  suppose  that  either  our  state  governments  are  superior  to 
the  federal,  or  the  federal  to  the  state;  neither  is  authorized  literally  to  decide 
which  belongs  to  itself  or  its  copartner  in  government;  in  differences  of  opinion, 
between  their  different  sets  of  public  servants,  the  appeal  is  to  neither,  but  to 
their  employers  peaceably  assembled  by  their  representatives  in  convention." 

The  opinion  of  Mr.  Jefferson  on  this  subject  has  been  so  repeatedly  and  so 
solemnly  expressed,  that  they  may  be  said  to  have  been  among  the  most  fixed 
and  settled  convictions  of  his  mind. 

In  the  protest  prepared  by  him  for  the  legislature  of  Virginia,  in  December, 
1825,  in  respect  to  the  powers  exercised  by  the  federal  government  in  relation 
to  the  tariff  and  internal  improvements,  which  he  declares  to  be  "usurpations 
of  the  powers  retained  by  the  states,  mere  interpolations  into  the  compact, 
and  direct  infractions  of  it,"  he  solemnly  reasserts  all  the  principles  of  the 
Virginia  Resolutions  of  '98,  protests  against  "  these  acts  of  the  federal  branch 
of  the  government  as  null  and  void,  and  delares  that,  although  Virginia  would 
consider  a  dissolution  of  the  Union  as  among  the  greatest  calamities  that  could 
befall  them,  yet  it  is  not  the  greatest.  There  is  one  yet  greater  —  submission 
to  a  government  of  unlimited  powers.  It  is  only  when  the  hope  of  this  shall 
become  absolutely  desperate,  that  further  forbearance  could  not  be  indulged." 

In  his  letter  to  Mr.  Giles,  written  about  the  same  time,  he  says,  — 

"  I  see  as  you  do,  and  with  the  deepest  affliction,  the  rapid  strides  with 
which  the  federal  branch  of  our  government  is  advancing  towards  the  usur 
pation  of  all  the  rights  reserved  to  the  states,  and  the  consolidation  in  itself 
of  all  powers,  foreign  and  domestic,  and  that  too  by  constructions  which  leave 
no  limits  to  their  powers,  &c.  Under  the  power  to  regulate  commerce,  they 
assume,  indefinitely,  that  also  over  agriculture  and  manufactures,  &c.  Under 
the  authority  to  establish  post  roads,  they  claim  that  of  cutting  down  moun 
tains  for  the  construction  of  roads,  and  digging  canals,  &c.  And  what  is  our 
resource  for  the  preservation  of  the  constitution  ?  Reason  and  argument  1 
You  might  as  well  reason  and  argue  with  the  marble  columns  encircling  them, 
&c.  Are  we  then  to  stand  to  our  arms  with  the  hot-headed  Georgian  ?  No ; 
[and  I  say  no,  and  South  Carolina  has  said  no;]  that  must  be  the  last  re 
source.  We  must  have  patience  and  long  endurance  with  our  brethren,  <fec., 
and  separate  from  our  companions  only  when  the  sole  alternatives  left  are 
a  dissolution  of  our  Union  with  them,  or  submission  to  a  government  without 
limitation  of  powers.  Between  these  two  evils,  when  we  must  make  a  choice, 
there  can  be  no  hesitation." 

Such,  sir,  are  the  high  and  imposing  authorities  in  support  of  "  the  Caro 
lina  doctrine,"  which  is,  in  fact,  the  doctrine  of  the  Virginia  Resolutions  of 
1798. 

Sir,  at  that  day  the  whole  country  was  divided  on  this  very  question.  It 
formed  the  line  of  demarcation  between  the  federal  and  republican  parties; 
and  the  great  political  revolution  which  then  took  place  turned  upon  the  veiy 
questions  involved  in  these  resolutions.  That  question  was  decided  by  the 
people,  and  by  that  decision  the  constitution  was,  in  the  emphatic  language 
of  Mr.  Jefferson,  "  saved  at  its  last  gasp."  I  should  suppose,  sir,  it  would  re 
quire  more  self-respect  than  any  gentleman  here  would  be  willing  to  assume, 
DO  treat  lightly  doctrines  derived  from  such  high  resources.  Resting  on 


168 

authority  like  this,  I  will  ask  gentlemen  whether  South  Carolina  has  nci 
manifested  a  high  regard  for  the  Union,  when,  under  a  tyranny  ten  times  more 
grievous  than  the  alien  and  sedition  laws,  she  has  hitherto  gone  no  further 
than  to  petition,  remonstrate,  and  to  solemnly  protest  {gainst  a  series  of 
measures  which  she  believes  to  be  wholly  unconstitutional  and  utterly 
destructive  of  her  interests.  Sir,  South  Carolina  has  not  gone  one  step  further 
than  Mr.  Jefferson  himself  was  disposed  to  go,  in  relation  to  the  present  sub 
ject  of  our  present  complaints — not  a  step  further  than  the  statesmen  from 
New  England  were  disposed  to  go,  under  similar  circumstances;  no  further 
than  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  himself  once  considered  as  within  "  the 
limits  of  a  constitutional  opposition."  The  doctrine  that  it  is  the  right  of  a 
state  to  judge  of  the  violations  of  the  constitution  on  the  part  of  the  federal 
government,  and  to  protect  her  citizens  from  the  operations  of  unconstitutional 
laws,  was  held  by  the  enlightened  citizens  of  Boston,  who  assembled  in 
Faneuil  Hall,  on  the  25th  of  January,  1809.  They  state,  in  that  cele 
brated  memorial,  that  "they  looked  only  to  the  state  legislature,  who  were 
competent  to  devise  relief  against  the  unconstitutional  acts  of  the  general 
government.  That  your  power  (say  they)  is  adequate  to  that  object,  is  evi 
dent  from  the  organization  of  the  confederacy." 

A  distinguished  senator  from  one  of  the  New  England  States,  (Mr.  Hill- 
house,)  in  a  speech  delivered  here,  on  a  bill  for  enforcing  the  embargo,  de 
clared,  "  I  feel  myself  bound  in  conscience  to  declare,  (lest  the  blood  of  those 
who  shall  fall  in  the  execution  of  this  measure  shall  be  on  my  head,)  that  I  con 
sider  this  to  be  an  act  which  directs  a  mortal  blow  at  the  liberties  of  my 
country  —  an  act  containing  unconstitutional  provisions,  to  which  the  people 
are  not  bound  to  submit,  and  to  which,  in  my  opinion,  they  will  not  submit." 

And  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  himself,  in  a  speech  delivered  on  the 
same  subject  in  the  other  house,  said,  "  This  opposition  is  constitutional  and 
legal ;  it  is  also  conscientious.  It  rests  on  settled  and  sober  conviction,  that 
such  policy  is  destructive  to  the  interests  of  the  people,  and  dangerous  to  the 
being  of  government.  The  experience  of  every  day  confirms  these  sentiments. 
Men  who  act  from  such  motives  are  not  to  be  discouraged  by  trifling  obstacles, 
nor  awed  by  any  dangers.  They  know  the  limit  of  constitutional  opposition ; 
up  to  that  limit,  at  their  own  discretion,  they  will  walk,  and  walk  fearlessly." 
How  "  the  being  of  the  government"  was  to  be  endangered  by  "  constitutional 
opposition"  to  the  embargo,  I  leave  to  the  gentleman  to  explain. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen,  Mr.  President,  that  the  South  Carolina  doctrine  is  the 
republican  doctrine  of  '98  —  that  it  was  promulgated  by  the  fathers  of  the 
faith  —  that  it  was  maintained  by  Virginia  and  Kentucky  in  the  worst  of 
times  —  that  it  constituted  the  very  pivot  on  which  the  political  revolution 
of  that  day  turned  —  that  it  embraces  the  very  principles,  the  triumph  of 
which,  at  that  time,  saved  the  constitution  at  its  last  gasp,  and  which  New 
England  statesmen  were  not  unwilling  to  adopt,  when  thev  believed  them 
selves  to  be  the  victims  of  unconstitutional  legislation.  Sir,* as  to  the  doctrine 
that  the  federal  government  is  the  exclusive  judge  of  the  extent  as  well  as  the 
limitations  of  its  powers,  it  seems  to  me  to  be  utterly  subversive  of  the 
sovereignty  and  independence  of  the  states.  It  makes  but  little  difference, 
in  my  estimation,  whether  Congress  or  the  Supreme  Court  are  invested  with 
this  power.  If  the  federal  government,  in  all,  or  any  of  its  departments,  is  to 
prescribe  the  limits  of  its  own  authority,  and  the  states  are  bound  to  submit 
to  the  decision,  and  are  not  to  be  allowed  to  examine  and  decide  for  them 
selves,  when  the  barriers  of  the  constitution  shall  be  overleaped,  this  is  practi- 


169 

cally  "  a  government  without  limitation  of  powers."  The  states  are  at  once 
reduced  to  mere  petty  corporations,  and  the  people  are  entirely  at  your  mercy. 
I  have  but  one  more  word  to  add.  In  all  the  efforts  that  have  been  made 
by  South  Carolina  to  resist  the  unconstitutional  laws  which  Congress  has  ex 
tended  over  them,  she  has  kept  steadily  in  view  the  preservation  of  the  Union, 
by  the  only  means  by  which  she  believes  it  can  be  long  preserved  —  a  firm, 
manly,  and  steady  resistance  against  usurpation.  The  measures  of  the  federal 
government  have,  it  is  true,  prostrated  her  interests,  and  will  soon  involve  the 
vhole  south  in  irretrievable  ruin.  But  even  this  evil,  great  as  it  is,  is  not  the 
chief  ground  of  our  complaints.  It  is  the  principle  involved  in  the  contest  — 
a  principle  which,  substituting  the  discretion  of  Congress  for  the  limitations 
of  the  constitution,  brings  the  states  and  the  people  to  the  feet  of  the  federal 
government,  and  leaves  them  nothing  they  can  call  their  own.  Sir,  if  the 
measures  of  the  federal  government  were  less  oppressive,  we  should  still  strive 
against  this,  usurpation.  The  south  is  acting  on  a  principle  she  has  always 
held  sacred  —  resistance  to  unauthorized  taxation.  These,  sir,  are  the  princi 
ples  which  induced  the  immortal  Hampden  to  resist  the  payment  of  a  tax  of 
twenty  shillings.  Would  twenty  shillings  have  ruined  his  fortune  ?  No ! 
but  the  payment  of  half  twenty  shillings,  on  the  principle  on  which  it  was 
demanded,  would  have  made  him  a  slave.  Sir,  if  acting  on  these  high  motives 
—  if  animated  by  that  ardent  love  of  liberty  which  has  always  been  the  most 
prominent  trait  in  the  southern  character  —  we  should  be  hurried  beyond  the 
bounds  of  a  cold  and  calculating  prudence,  who  is  there,  with  one  noble  and 
generous  sentiment  in  his  bosom,  that  would  not  be  disposed,  in  the  language 
of  Burke,  to  exclaim,  tt  You  must  pardon  something  to  the  spirit  of  liberty" ! 


REPLY  TO  HAYNE, 

DELIVERED    IN   SENATE,    JANUARY   26,    1830. 


FOLLOWING  Mr.  HAYNE  in  the  debate,  Mr.  WEBSTER  addressed  the 
Senate  as  follows : — 

Mr.  PRESIDENT  :  When  the  mariner  has  been  tossed,  for  many  days,  in 
thick  weather,  and  on  an  unknown  sea,  he  naturally  avails  himself  of  the  first 
pause  in  the  storm,  the  earliest  glance  of  the  sun,  to  take  his  latitude,  and  as 
certain  how  far  the  elements  have  driven  him  from  his  true  course.  Let  us 
imitate  this  prudence,  and  before  we  float  farther,  refer  to  the  point  from 
which  we  departed,  that  we  may  at  least  be  able  to  conjecture  where  we  now 
are.  I  ask  for  the  reading  of  the  resolution. 

[The  Secretary  read  the  resolution  as  follows : 

"  Resolved,  That  the  committee  on  public  lands  be  instructed  to  inquire 
and  report  the  quantity  of  the  public  lands  remaining  unsold  within  each  state 
and  territory,  and  whether  it  be  expedient  to  limit,  for  a  certain  period,  the 
sales  of  the  public  lands  to  such  lands  only  as  have  heretofore  been  offered 
for  sale,  and  are  now  subject  to  entry  at  the  minimum  price.  And,  also, 
whether  the  office  of  surveyor  general,  and  some  of  the  land  offices,  may  not 
be  abolished  without  detriment  to  the  public  interest ;  or  whether  it  be  ex 
pedient  to  adopt  measures  to  hasten  the  sales,  and  extend  more  rapidly  the 
surveys  of  the  public  lands."] 
^We  have  thus  heard,  sir,  what  the  resolution  is,  which  is  actually  before  u$ 
for  consideration ;  and  it  will  readily  occur  to  every  one  that  it  is  almost  the 
only  subject  about  which  something  has  not  been  said  in  the  speech,  running 
through  two  days,  by  which  the  Senate  has  been  now  entertained  by  the  gen 
tleman  from  South  Carolina,  Every  topic  in  the  wide  range  of  our  public 
affairs,  whether  past  or  present,  —  every  thing,  general  or  local,  whether  be 
longing  to  national  politics  or  party  politics,  —  seems  to  have  attracted  morei 
or  less  of  the  honorable  member's  attention,  save  only  the  resolution  before! 
us.  He  has  spoken  of  every  thing  but  the  public  lands.  They  have  escaped 
his  notice.  To  that  subject,  in  all  his  excursions,  he  has  not  paid  even  the 
cold  respect  of  a  passing  glance. 

When  this  debate,  sir,  was  to  be  resumed,  on  Thursday  morning,  it  so  hap 
pened  that  it  would  have  been  convenient  for  me  to  be  elsewhere.  The  hon 
orable  member,  however  did  not  incline  to  put  off  the  discussion  to  another 
dav.  He  had  a  shot,  he  said,  to  return,  and  he  wished  to  discharge  it.  That 
shot,  sir,  which  it  was  kind  thus  to  inform  us  was  coming,  that  we  might  stand 
out  of  the  way,  or  prepare  ourselves  to  fall  before  it,  and  die  with  decency, 


172 

has  now  been  received.  Under  all  advantages,  and  with  expectation  awakened 
by  the  tone  which  preceded  it,  it  has  been  discharged,  and  has  spent  its  force. 
It  may  become  me  to  say  no  more  of  its  effect  than  that,  if  nobody  is  found, 
after  all,  either  killed  or  wounded  by  it,  it  is  not  the  first  time  in  the  history 
of  human  affairs  that  the  vigor  and  success  of  the  war  have  not  quite  come 
up  to  the  lofty  and  sounding  phrase  of  the  manifesto. 

The  gentleman,  sir,  in  declining  to  postpone  the  debate,  told  the  Senate, 
with  the  emphasis  of  his  hand  upon  his  heart,  that  there  was  something 
rankling  here,  which  he  wished  to  relieve.  [Mr.  HAYNE  rose  and  disclaimed 
having  used  the  word  rankling]  It  would  not,  Mr.  President,  be  safe  for  the 
honorable  member  to  appeal  to  those  around  him,  upon  the  question  whether 
he  did,  in  fact,  make  use  of  that  word.  But  he  may  have  been  unconscious 
of  it.  At  any  rate,  it  is  enough  that  he  disclaims  it.  But  still,  with  or  with 
out  the  use  of  that  particular  word,  he  had  yet  something  here,  he  said,  of 
which  he  wished  to  rid  himself  by  an  immediate  reply.  In  this  respect,  sir, 
I  have  a  great  advantage  over  the  honorable  gentleman.  There  is  nothing 
here,  sir,  which  gives  me  the  slighest  uneasiness;  neither  fear,  nor  anger,  nor 
that  which  is  sometimes  more  troublesome  than  either,  1 1 1  e^  ;  c<  >ns(  j  o  us  ness,  L^f 
having  been  in  the  wrong*.  There  is  nothing  either  ori^inatin-g^  he  re,  or  now 
received~TTere,  by  the  gentleman's  shot.  Nothing  original,  for  1  had  not  the 
slightest  feeling  of  disrespect  or  unkindness  towards  the  honorable  member. 
Some  passages,  -it  is  true,  had  occurred,  since  our  acquaintance  in  this  body, 
which  I  could  have  wished  might  have  been  otherwise ;  but  I  had  used  phil 
osophy,  aud  forgotten  them.  When  the  honorable  member  rose,  in  his  first 
speech,  I  paid  him  the  respect  of  attentive  listening;  and  when  he  sat  down, 
though  surprised,  and  I  must  say  even  astonished,  at  some  of  his  opinions, 
nothing  was  farther  from  my  intention  than  to  commence  any  personal  war 
fare;  and  through  the  whole  of  the  few  remarks  I  made  in  answer,  I  avoided, 
studiously  and  carefully,  every  thing  which  I  thought  possible  to  be  construed 
into  disrespect.  And,  sir,  while  there  is  thus  nothing  originating  here,  which 
I  wished  at  any  time,  or  now  wish  to  discharge,  I  must  repeat,  also,  that 
nothing  has  been  received  here  which  rankles,  or  in  any  way  gives  me  an 
noyance.  I  will  not  accuse  the  honorable  member  of  .viplatiii^  the  rules  of 
civilized  war  —  I  will  not  say  that  he  poisoned  his  arro^gjCfeut  whether  his 
shafts  were,  or  were  not,  dipped  in  that  which  would  have  abused  rankling  if 
they  had  reached,  there  was  not,  as  it  happened,  quite  strength  enough  in  the 
bow  to  bring  them  to  their  mark.  If  he  wishes  now  to  find  those  shafts,  he 
,  must  look  for  them  elsewhere;  they  will  not  be  found  fixed  ami  quivering  in 
.  \l  the  object  at  which  they  were  aimed.  OJ-VCAAA*^  '^^^T^!^—^-  * 
*^The  honorable  member  complained  that  I  had  slept on^S^peechTui  must 
have  slept  on  it,  or  not  slept  at  all.  The  moment  the  honorable  member 
down,  his  friend  from  Missouri  rose,  and,  with  much  honeyed  commendation 
of  the  speech,  suggested  that  the  impressions  which  it  had  produced  were 
charming  and  delightful  to  be  disturbed  by  other  sentiments  or  other  sounds, 
and  proposed  that  the  Senate  should  adjourn.  Would  it  have  been  quite 
amiable  in  me,  sir,  to  interrupt  this  excellent  good  feeling  ?  Must  I  not  have 
been  absolutely  malicious,  if  I  could  have  thrust  myself  forward  to  destroy 
sensations  thus  pleasing  ?  Was  it  not  much  better  and  kinder,  both  to  sleep 
upon  them  myself,  and  to  allow  others,  also,  the  pleasure  of  sleeping  upon 
them  ?  But  if  it  be  meant,  by  sleeping  upon  his  speech,  that  I  took  time  to 
prepare  a  reply  to  it,  it  is  quite  a  mistake ;  owing  to  other  engagements,  I  could 
not  employ  even  the  interval  between  the,  adjournment  of  the  Senate  and 


sat  / 

ion  / 
too/ 


its  meeting  the  next  morning  in  attention  to  the  subject  of  this  debate, 
Neverthless,  sir,  the  mere  matter  of  fact  is  undoubtedly  true  —  I  did  sleep 
on  the  gentleman's  speech,  and  slept  soundly.  And  1  slept  equally  well  on 
his  speech  of  yesterday,  to  which  I  am  now  replying.  It  is  quite  possible 
that,  in  this  respect,  also,  I  possess  some  advantage  over  the  honorable  mem 
ber,  attributable,  doubtless,  to  a  cooler  temperament  on  my  part ;  for  in  truth 
I  slept  upon  his  speeches  remarkably  well.  But  the  gentleman  inquires  why 
he  was  made  the  object  of  such  a  reply.  Why  was  he  singled  out  ?  If^an 
attack  haj  bfPn  ™Qd°  oil  t^  fr^t,  hfj  he  assures  us,  did  not  begin  it —  it  was 
{rTe^e^itieman  from  Missouri.  [Sir,  I  answered  the  gentleman's  speech,  because) 
I  happened  to  hear  it;  and  because,  also,  I  choose  to  give  an  answer  to  that  I 
speech,  which,  if  unanswered,  I  thought  most  likely  to  produce  injurious  im- 1 
pressions.  I  did  not  stop  to  inquire  who  was  the  original  drawer  of  the  bill.  I 
I  found  a  responsible  endorser  before  me,  and  it  was  my  purpose  to  hold  himj 
liable,  and  to  bring  him  to  his  just  responsibility  without  delay.  But,  sir, 
this  interrogatory  of  the  honorable  member  was  only  introductory  to  another. 
He  proceeded  to  ask  me  whether  I  had  turned  upon  him  in  this  debate  from 
the  consciousness  that  I  should  find  an  overmatch  if  I  ventured  on  a  contest 
with  his  friend  from  Missouri.  If,  sir,  the  honorable  member,  ex  gratia 
modesties,  had  chosen  thus  to  defer  to  his  friend,  and  to  pay  him  a  compli 
ment,  without  intentional  disparagement  to  others,  it  would  have  been  quite 
according  to  the  friendly  courtesies  of  debate,  and  not  at  all  ungrateful  to  my 
own  feelings.  I  am  not  one  of  those,  sir,  who  esteem  any  tribute  of  regard, 
whether  light  and  occasional,  or  more  serious  and  deliberate,  which  may  be 
bestowed  on  others,  as  so  much  unjustly  withholden  from  themselves.  But 
the  tone  and  manner  of  the  gentleman's  question,  forbid  me  thus  to  interpret 
it.  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  consider  it  as  nothing  more  than  a  civility  to  his 
friend.  It  had  an  air  of  taunt  and  disparagement,  a  little  of  the  loftiness  of 
asserted  superiority,  which  does  not  allow  me  to  pass  it  over  without  notice. 
It  was  put  as  a  question  for  me  to  answer,  and  so  put  as  if  it  were  difficult  for 
me  to  answer,  whether  I  deemed  the  member  from  Missouri  an  overmatch  for 
myself  in  debate  here.  It  seems  to  me,  sir,  that  is  extraordinary  language, 
and  an  extraordinary  tone  for  the  discussions  of  this  body. 

Matches  and  overmatches!  Those  terms  are  more  applicable  elsewhere 
than  here,  and  fitter  for  other  assemblies  than  this.  Sir,  the  gentleman  seems 
to  forget  where  and  what  we  are.  IThis  is  a  Senate;  a  Senate  of  equals;  oi\ 
men  of  individual  honor  and  personal  character,  and  of  absolute  independence.1! 
We  know  no  masters;  we  acknowledge  no  dictators.  This  is  a  hall  for  mu-| 
tual  consultation  and  discussion,  not  an  arena  for  the  exhibition  of  champions. 
I  offer  myself,  sir,  as  a  match  for  no  man ;  I  throw  the  challenge  of  debate  lit 
no  man's  feet.  But,  then,  sir,  since  the  honorable  member  has  put  the  ques 
tion  in  a  manner  that  calls  for  an  answer,  I  will  give  him  an  answer;  and  I 
tell  him  that,  holding  myself  to  be  the  humblest  of  the  members  here,  I  yet 
know  nothing  in  the  arm  of  his  friend  from  Missouri,  either  alone  or  when 
aided  by  the  arm  of  his  friend  from  South  Carolina,  that  need  deter  even  me 
from  espousing  whatever  opinions  I  may  choose  to  espouse,  from  debating 
whenever  I  may  choose  to  debate,  or  from  speaking  whatever  I  may  see  fit  to 
say  on  the  floor  of  the  Senate.  Sir,  when  uttered  as  matter  of  commendation 
or  compliment,  I  should  dissent  from  nothing  which  the  honorable  member 
might  say  of  his  friend.  Still  less  do  I  put  forth  any  pretensions  of  my  own. 
.But  when  put  to  me  as  matter  of  taunt,  I  throw  it  back,  and  say  to  the  gen 
tleman  that  he  could  possibly  say  nothing  less  likely  than  such  a  comparison 


174 

to  wound  my  pride  of  personal  character.  The  anger  of  its  tone  rescued  the 
remark  from  intentional  irony,  which  otherwise,  probably,  would  have  been  its 
general  acceptation.  Bat,  sir,  if  it  be  imagined  that  by  this  mutual  quotation 
and  commendation ;  if  it  be  supposed  that,  by  casting  the  characters  of  the 
drama,  assigning  to  each  his  part,  —  to  one  the  attack,  to  another  the  cry  of 
onset^  —  or  if  it  be  thought  that  by  a  loud  and  empty  vaunt  of  anticipated 
victory  any  laurels  are  to  be  won  here;  if  it  be  imagined,  especially,  that  any 
or  all  these  things  will  shake  any  purpose  of  mine,  I  can  tell  the  honorable 
member,  once  for  all,  that  he  is  greatly  mistaken,  and  that  he  is  dealing  with 
one  of  whose  temper  and  character  he  has  yet  much  to  learn.  Sir,  I  shall 
not  allow  myself,  on  this  occasion  —  I  hope  on  no  occasion  —  to  be  betrayed 
into  any  loss  of  temper ;  but  if  provoked,  as  I  trust  I  never  shall  allow  myself 
to  be,  into  crimination  and  recrimination,  the  honorable  member  may,  perhaps, 
find  that  in  that  contest  there  will  be  blows  to  take  as  well  as  blows  to  give; 
that  others  can  state  comparisons  as  significant,  at  least  as  his  own ;  and  that 
his  impunity  may,  perhaps,  demand  of  him  whatever  powers  of  taunt  and 
sarcasm  he  may  possess.  I  commend  him  to  a  prudent  husbandry  of  his 
resources. 

"SBut,  sir,  the  coalition !  The  coalition !  Aye,  "  the  murdered  coalition !" 
The  gentleman  asks  if  I  were  led  or  frighted  into  this  debate  by  the  spectre 
of  the  coalition.  "  Was  it  the  ghost  of  the  murdered  coalition,"  he  exclaims, 
"  which  haunted  the  member  from  Massachusetts,  and  which,  like  the  ghost 
of  Banquo,  would  never  down  ?"  "The  murdered  coalition !"  Sir,  this  charge 
of  a  coalition,  in  reference  to  the  late  administratiofi,  is  not  original  with  the 
honorable  member.  It  did  not  spring  up  in  the  Senate.  Whether  as  a  fact, 
as  an  argument,  or  as  an  embellishment,  it  is  all  borrowed.  He  adopts  it,  in 
deed,  from  a  very  low  origin,  and  a  still  lower  present  condition.  It  is  one  of 
the  thousand  calumnies  with  which  the  press  teemed  during  an  excited  politi 
cal  canvass.  It  was  a  charge  of  which  there  was  not  only  no  proof  or  proba 
bility,  but  which  was,  in  itself,  wholly  impossible  to  be  true.  No  man  of  com 
mon  information  ever  believed  a  syllable  of  it.  Yet  it  was  of  that  class  of 
falsehoods  which,  by  continued  repetition  through  all  the  organs  of  detraction 
and  abuse,  are  capable  of  misleading  those  who  are  already  far  misled,  and  of 
further  fanning  passion  already  kindling  into  flame.  Doubtless  it  served  its 
day,  and,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  the  end  designed  by  it.  Having  done 
that,  it  has  sunk  into  the  general  mass  of  stale  and  loathed  calumnies.  It  is 
the  very  cast-off  slough  of  a  polluted  and  shameless  press.  Incapable  of  fur 
ther  mischief,  it  lies  in  the  sewer,  lifeless  and-  despised.  It  is  not  now,  sir,  in 
the  power  of  the  honorable  member  to  give  it  dignity  or*«lecency,  by  attempting 
to  elevate  it,  and  to  introduce  it  into  the  Senate.  He  cannot  change  it  from 
what  it  is  —  an  object  of  general  disgust  and  scorn.  On  the  contrary,  the 
contact,  if  he  choose  to  touch  it,  i-s  more  likely  to  drag  him  down,  down,  to  the 
place  where  it  lies  itself. 

But,  sir,  the  honorable  member  was  not,  for  other  reasons,  entirely  happy  in 
his  allusion  to  the  story  of  Banquo's  murder  and  Banquo's  ghost.  It  was  no', 
I  think,  the  friends,  but  the  enemies  of  the  murdered  Banquo,  at  whose  bid 
ding  his  spirit  would  not  down.  The  honorable  gentleman  is  fresh  in  his 
reading  of  the  English  classics,  andean  put  me  right  if  I  am  wrong;  but  ac 
cording  to  my  poor  recollection,  it  was  at  those  who  had  begun  with  caresses, 
and  ended  with  foul  and  treacherous  murder,  that  the  gory  locks  were  shaken. 
The  ghost  of  Banquo,  like  that  of  Hamlet,  was  an  honest  ghost.  It  disturbed 
no  innocent  man.  It  knew  where  its  appearance  would  strike  terror,  and  who 


would  cry  out,  A  ghost !     It  made  itself  visible  in  the  right  quarter,  and  com- I 
pelled  the  guilty,  and  the  conscience-smitten,  and  none  others,  to  start,  with      I 

"  Prithee,  see  there  !  behold  !  —look  !  lo  ! 
If  I  stand  here,  I  saw  him !" 

Their  eyeballs  were  seared  —  was  it  not  so,  sir  ? — who  had  thought  to  shield 
themselves  by  concealing  their  own  hand,  and  laying  the  imputation  of  the 
crime  on  a  low  and  hireling  agency  in  wickedness ;  who  had  vainly  attempted 
to  stifle  the  workings  of  their  own  coward  consciences,  by  circulating,  through 
white  lips  and  chattering  teeth,  "  Thou  canst  not  say  I  did  it !"  I  have  mis 
read  the  great  poet,  if  it  was  those  who  had  no  way  partaken  in  the  deed  of 
the  death,  who  either  found  that  they  were,  or  feared  that  they  should  be, 
pushed  from  their  stools  by  the  ghost  of  the  slain,  or  who  cried  out  to  a  spec 
tre  created  by  their  own  fears,  and  their  own  remorse,  "Avaunt!  and  quit 
pur  sight !" 

There  is  another  particular,  sir,  in  which  the  honorable  member's  quiclT 
perception  of  resemblances  might,  I  should  think,  have  seen  something  in  the 
story  of  Banquo,  making  it  not  altogether  a  subject  of  the  most  pleasant  con 
templation.  Those  who  murdered  Banquo,  what  did  they  win  by  it?  Sub 
stantial  good?  Permanent  power?  Or  disappointment,  rather,  and  sore 
mortification  —  dust  and  ashes  —  the  common  fate  of  vaulting  ambition 
overleaping  itself?  Did  not  even-handed  justice,  ere  long,  commend  the 
poisoned  chalice  to  their  own  lips?  Did  they  not  soon  find  that  for  another 
they  had  "  filed  their  mind  ? "  —  that  their  ambition,  though  apparently  for 
the  moment  successful,  had  but  put  a  barren  sceptre  in  their  grasp  ?  Aye,  sir, — 

"  A  barren  sceptre  in  their  gripe, 

Thence  to  le  wrenched  by  an  unlineal  hand, 

No  son  f>f  theirs  succeeding." 

Sir,  I  need  pursue  the  allusion  no  further.  I  leave  the  honorable  gentleman 
to  run  it  out  at  his  leisure,  and  to  derive  from  it  all  the  gratification  it  is  cal 
culated  to  administer.  If  he  finds  himself  pleased  with  the  associations,  and 
prepared  to  be  quite  satisfied,  though  the  parallel  should  be  entirely  completed, 
I  had  almost  said  I  am  satisfied  also  —  but  that  I  shall  think  of.  Yes,  sir,  I .  .. 

In  the  course  of  my  observations  the  other  day,  Mr.  President,  I  paid  a 
passing  tribute  of  respect  to  a  very  worthy  man,  Mr.  Dane,  of  Massachusetts. 
It  so  happened  that  he  drew  the  ordinance  of  178 7  for  the  government  of 
the  North-western  Territory.  A  man  of  so  much  ability,  and  so  little  pretence ; 
of  so  great  a  capacity  to  do  good,  and  so  unmixed  a  disposition  to  do  it  fftr  its 
ewn  sake ;  a  gentleman  who  acted  an  important  part,  forty  years  ago,  in  a 
measure  the  influence  of  which  is  still  deeply  felt  in  the  very  matter  which 
was  the  subject  of  debate,  might,  I  thought,  receive  from  me  a  commendatory 
recognition. 

But  the  honorable  gentleman  was  inclined  to  be  facetious  on  the  subject. 
He  was  rather  disposed  to  make  it  a  matter  of  ridicule  that  I  had  introduced 
into  the  debate  the  name  of  one  Nathan  Ejfeie,  of  whom  he  assures  us  he  had 
never  before  heard.  Sir,  if  the  honorable  member  had  never  before  heard  of 
Mr.  Dane,  I  am  sorry  for  it.  It  shows  him  less  acquainted  with  the  public 
men  of  the  contry  than  I  had  supposed.  Let  me  tell  him,  however,  that  a 


176 

sneer  from  him  at  the  mention  of  the  name  of  Mr,  Dane  is  in  bad  taste.  It 
may  well  be  a  high  mark  of  ambition,  sir,  either  with  the  honorable  gentleman 
or  myself,  to  accomplish  as  much  to  make  our  names  known  to  advantage, 
and  remembered  with  gratitude,  as  Mr.  Dane  has  accomplished.  But  the 
truth  is,  sir,  I  suspect  that  Mr.  Dane  lives  a  little  too  far  north.  He  is  of 
Massachusetts,  and  too  near  the  north  star  to  be  reached  by  the  honorable 
gentleman's  telescope.  If  his  sphere  had  happened  to  range  south  of  Mason 
and  Dixon's  line,  he  might,  probably,  have  come  within  the  scope  of  his 
vision  I 

I  spoke,  sir,  of  the  ordinance  of  1787,  which  prohibited  slavery  in  all  fu 
ture  times  north-west  of  the  Ohio,  as  a  measure  of  great  wisdom  and  fore 
sight,  and  one  which  had  been  attended  with  highly  beneficial  and  permanent 
consequences.  I  supposed  that  on  this  point  no  two  gentlemen  in  the  Senate 
could  entertain  different  opinions.  But  the  simple  expression  of  this  senti 
ment  has  led  the  gentleman,  not  only  into  a  labored  defence  of  slavery  in  the 
abstract,  and  on  principle,  but  also  into  a  warm  accusation  against  me,  as 
having  attacked  the  system  of  slavery  now  existing  in  the  Southern  States. 
For  all  this  there  was  not  the  slightest  foundation  in  any  thing  said  or  inti 
mated  by  me.  I  did  not  utter  a  single  word  which  any  ingenuity  conld 
torture  into  an  attack  on  the  slavery  of  the  South.  I  said  only  that  it  was 
highly  wise  and  useful  in  legislating  for  the  north-western  country,  while  it 
was  yet  a  wilderness,  to  prohibit  the  introduction  of  slaves;  and  added,  that 
I  presumed,  in  the  neighboring  state  of  Kentucky,  there  was  no  reflecting  and 
intelligent  gentleman  who  would  doubt  that,  if  the  same  prohibition  had  been 
extended,  at  the  same  early  period,  over  that  commonwealth,  her  strength  and 
population  would,  at  this  day,  have  been  far  greater  than  they  are.  If  these 
opinions  be  thought  doubtful,  they  are,  nevertheless,  I  trust,  neither  extraordi 
nary  nor  disrespectful.  They  attack  nobody  and  menace  nobody.  And  yet, 
sir,  the  gentleman's  optics  have  discovered,  even  in  the  mere  expression  of  this 
sentiment,  what  he  calls  the  very  spirit  of  the  Missouri  question !  He  repre 
sents  me  as  making  an  attack  on  the  whole  south,  and  manifesting  a  spirit 
which  would  intefere  with  and  disturb  their  domestic  condition.  Sir,  this  in 
justice  no  otherwise  surprises  me  than  as  it  is  done  here,  and  done  without 
the  slightest  pretence  of  ground  for  it.  I  say  it  only  surprises  me  as  being 
done  here ;  for  I  know  full  well  that  it  is  and  has  been  the  settled  policy  of 
some  persons  in  the  south,  for  years,  to  represent  the  people  of  the  north  as 
disposed  to  interfere  with  them  in  their  own  exclusive  and  peculiar  concerns. 
This  is  a  delicate  and  sensitive  point  in  southern  feeling ;  and  of  late  years  it 
has  always  been  touched,  and  generally  with  effect,  whenever  the  object  has 
been  to  unite  the  whole  south  against  northern  men  or  northern  measures. 
This  feeling,  always  carefully  kept  alive,  and  maintained  at  too  intense  a  heat 
to  admit  discrimination  or  reflection,  is  a  lever  of  great  power  in  our  political 
machine.  It  moves  vast  bodies,  and  gives  to  them  one  and  the  same  direc 
tion.  But  the  feeling  is  without  adequate  cause,  and  the  suspicion  which  ex 
ists  wholly  groundless.  There  is  not,  and  never  has  been,  q,  Disposition  in  the 
n^EthJgJpterfere  with  these  interests  of  tfresouth.  Such  interference  has 
never  been  supposed  to  be  within  the  poweTor  government^  nor  has  it  been 
in  any  way  attempted.  It  has  always  been  regarded  as  a  matter  of  domestic 
policy,  left  with  the  states  themselves,  and  with  which  the  federal  government 
had  nothing  to  do.  Certainly,  sir,  I  am,  and  ever  had  been,  of  that  opinion. 
The  gentleman,  indeed,  argues  that  slavery  in  the  abstract  is  no  evil.  Most 
assuredly  I  need  not  say  I  differ  with  him  altogether  and  most  widely  on  that 


177 

" 

point.  I  regard  domestic  slavery  as  one  of  the  greatest  of  evils,  both  moral 
and  political.  But,  though  it  be  a  malady,  and  whether  it  be  curable,  and  if 
so,  by  what  means ;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  whether  it  be  the  culnus  immedica- 
bile  of  the  social  system,  I  leave  it  to  those  whose  right  and  duty  it  is  to  in 
quire  and  to  decide.  And  this  I  believe,  sir,  is,  and  uniformly  has  been,  the  , 
sentiment  of  the  north.  Let  us  look  a  little  at  the  history  of  this  matter.  / 

When  the  present  constitution  was  submitted  for  the  ratification  of  the  peo-V^ 
pie,  there  were  those  who  imagined  that  the  powers  of  the  government  which 
it  proposed  to  establish  might,  perhaps,  in  some  possible  mode,  be  exerted  in 
measures  tending  to  the  abolition  of  slavery.  This  suggestion  would,,  of  course, 
attract  much  attention  in  the  southern  conventions.  In  that  of  Virginia, 
Governor  Randolph  said : — 

"  I  hope  there  is  none  here,  who,  considering  the  subject  in  the  calm  light 
of  philosophy,  will  make  an  objection  dishonorable  to  Virginia  —  that,  at  the 
moment  they  are  securing  the  rights  of  their  citizens,  an  objection  is  started, 
that  there  is  a  spark  of  hope  that  those  unfortunate  men  now  hekl  in  bondage 
may,  by  the  operation  of  the  general  government,  be  made  free." 

At  the  very  first  Congress,  petitions  on  the  subject  were  presented,  if  1 
mistake  not,  from  different  statee.  The  Pennsylvania  Society  for  promoting 
the  Abolition  of  Slavery,  took  a  lead,  and  laid  before  Congress  a  memorial, 
praying  Congress  to  promote  the  abolition  by  such  powers  as  it  possessed. 
This  memorial  was  referred,  in  the  House  of  Representatives,  to  a  select  com 
mittee,  consisting  of  Mr.  Foster,  of  New  Hampshire,  Mr.  Gerry,  of  Massachu 
setts,  Mr.  Huntington,  of  Connecticut,  Mr.  Lawrence,  of  New  York,  Mr.  Dic 
kinson,  of  New  Jersey,  Mr.  Hartley,  of  Pennsylvania,  and  Mr.  Parker,  of 
Virginia ;  all  of  them,  sir,  as  you  will  observe,  northern  men,  but  the  last. 
This  committee  made  a  report,  which  was  committed  to  a  committee  of  the 
whole  house,  and  there  considered  and  discussed  on  several  days;  and  being 
amended,  although  in  no  material  respect,  it  was  made  to  express  three  distinct 
propositions  on  the  subjects  of  slavery  and  the  slave  trade.  First,  in  the  words 
of  the  constitution,  that  Congress  could  not,  prior  to  the  year  1808,  prohibit 
the  migration  or  importation  of  such  persons  as  any  of  the  states  then  existing 
j  should  think  proper  to  admit.  Second,  that  Congress  had  authority  to  restrain 
the  citizens  of  the  United  States  from  carrying  on  the  African  slave  trade  for 
the  purpose  of  supplying  foreign  countries.  On  this  proposition,  our  early 
laws  against  those  who  engage  in  that  traffic  are  founded.  The  third  propo 
sition,  and  that  which  bears  on  the  present  question,  was  expressed  in  the  fol 
lowing  terms: — 

"  Resolved,  That  Congress  have  no  authority  to  interfere  in  the  emancipa 
tion  of  slaves,  or  in  the  treatment  of  them  in  any  of  the  states;  it  remaining 
with  the  several  states  alone  to  provide  rules  and  regulations  therein,  which 
humanity  and  true  policy  may  require." 

This  resolution  received  the  sanction  of  the  House  of  Representatives  so 
early  as  March,  1790.  And,  now,  sir,  the  honorable  member  will  allow  mo 
to  remind  him,  that  not  only  were  the  select  committee  who  reported  the  re- 
.  solution,  with  a  single  exception,  all  northern  men,  but  also  that  of  the  mem 
bers  then  composing  the  House  of  Representatives,  a  large  majority,  I  believe 
nearly  two-thirds,  \vere  northern  men  also. 

1  The  house  agreed  to  insert  these  resolutions  in  its  journal;  and,  from  that 
day  to  this,  it  has  never  been  maintained  or  contended  that  Congress  had  any 
authority  to  regulate  or  interfere  with  the  condition  of  slaves  in  the  several 
states.  No  northern  gentleman,  to  my  knowledge,  has  moved  any  such  ques 
tion  in  either  house  of  Congress. 


178 

fears  of  the  south,  whatever  fears  they  might  have  entertained,  were 
allayed  and  quieted  by  this  early  decision ;  and  so  remained,  till  they  were 
excited  afresh,  without  cause,  but  for  collateral  and  indirect  purposes.  «When 
it  became  necessary,  or  was  thought  so,  by  some  political  persons,  to  find  an 
unvarying  ground  for  the  exclusion  of  northern  men  from  confidence  and 
from  lead  in  the  affairs  of  the  republic,  then,  and  not  till  then,  the  cry  was 
raised,  and  the  feeling  industriously  excited,  that  the  influence  of  northern 
men  in  the  public  councils  would  endanger  the  relation  of  master  and  slave. 
For  myself,  I  claim  no  other  merit,  than  that  this  gross  and  enormous  injus 
tice  towards  the  whole  north  has  not  wrought  upon  me  to  change  my  opinions, 
or  my  political  conduct.  I  hope  I  am  above  violating  my  principles,  even 
under  the  smart  of  injury  and  false  imputations.  Unjust  suspicions  and  un 
deserved  reproach,  whatever  pain  I  may  experience  from  them,  will  not  induce 
me,  I  trust,  nevertheless,  to  overstep  the  limits  of  constitutional  duty,  or  to 
encroach  on  the  rights  of  others.  The  domestic  slavery  of  the  south  I  leave 
where  I  find  it  —  in  the  hands  of  their  own  governments.  It  is  their  affair, 
not  mine.  Nor  do  I  complain  of  the  peculiar  effect  which  the  magnitude  of 
that  population  has  had  in  the  distribution  of  power  under  this  federal  govern 
ment.  We  know,  sir,  that  the  representation  of  the  states  in  the  other  house 
is  not  equal.  We  know  that  great  advantage,  in  that  respect,  is  enjoyed  by 
the  slaveholding  states;  and  we  know,  too,  that  the  intended  equivalent  for 
that  advantage  —  that  is  to  say,  the  imposition  of  direct  taxes  in  the  same 
ratio  —  has  become  merely  nominal ;  the  habit  of  the  government  being  al 
most  invariably  to  collect  its  revenues  from  other  sources,  and  in  other  modes. 
Nevertheless,  I  do  not  complain;  nor  would  I  countenance  any  movement  to 
alter  this  arrangement  of  representation.  It  is  the  original  bargain,  the  com 
pact  —  let  it  stand ;  let  the  advantage  of  it  be  fully  enjoyed.  The  Union 
itself  is  too  full  of  benefit  to  be  hazarded  in  propositions  for  changing  its 
original  basis.  I  go  for  the  constitution  as  it  is,  and  for  the  Union  as  it  is. 
But  I  am  resolved  not  to  submit,  in  silence,  to  accusations,  either  against  my 
self  individually,  or  against  the  north,  wholly  unfounded  and  unjust — {accu 
sations  which  impute  to  us  a  disposition  to  evade  the  constitutional  compact, 
and  to  exteud  the  power  of  the  government  over  the  internal  laws  and  domes 
tic  condition  of  the  states.}  All  such  accusations,  wherever  and  whenever 
made,  all  insinuations  of  the  existence  of  any  such  purposes,  I  know  and  feel 
to  be  groundless  and  injurious.  And  we  must  confide  in  southern  gentlemen 
themselves ;  wre  must  trust  to  those  whose  integrity  of  heart  and  magnanimity 
of  feeling  will  lead  them  to  a  desire  to  maintain  and  disseminate  truth,  and 
who  possess  the  means  of  its  diffusion  with  the  southern  public ;  we  must 
leave  it  to  them  to  disabuse  that  public  of  its  prejudices.  But>  in  the  mean 
time,  for  my  own  part,  I  shall  continue  to  act  justly,  whether  those  towards 
whom  justice  is  exercised  receive  it  with  candor  or  with  contumely. 
y  Having  had  occasion  to  recur  to  the  ordinance  of  1787,  in  order  to  defend 
myself  against  the  inferences  which  the  honorable  member  has  chosen  to  draw 
from  my  former  observations  on  that  subject,  I  am  not  willing  now  entirely  to 
take  leave  of  it  without  another  remark.  It  need  hardly  be  said,  that  that 
paper  expresses  just  sentiments  on  the  great  subject  of  civil  and  religious  liber 
ty.  Such  sentiments  were  common,  and  abound  in  all  our  state  papers  of 
that  day.  But  this  ordinance  did  that  which  was  not  so  common,  and  which 
is  not,  even  now,  universal ;  that  is,  it  set  forth  and  declared,  as  a  high  ana 
linding  duty  of  government  itself,  to  encourage  schools  and  advance  the 
means  of  education ;  on  the  plain  reason  that  religion,  morality  and  knowledge 


1 


179 

are  necessary  to  good  government,  and  to .  the  happiness  of  mankind.  One 
observation  further.  The  important  provision  incorporated  into  the  constitu 
tion  of  the  United  States,  and  several  of  those  of  the  states,  and  recently,  as 
we  have  seen,  adopted  into  the  reformed  constitution  of  Virginia,  restraining 
legislative  power,  in  questions  of  private  right,  and  from  impairing  the  obliga 
tion  of  contracts,  is  lirst  introduced  and  established,  as  far  as  I  am  informed, 
as  matter  of  express  written  constitutional  law,  in  this  ordinance  of  1787. 
And  I  must  add,  also,  in  regard  to  the  author  of  the  ordinance,  who  has  not 
had  the  happiness  to  attract  the  gentleman's  notice  heretofore,  nor  to  avoid 
his  sarcasm  now,  that  he  was  chairman  of  that  select  committee  of  the  old 
Congress,  whose  report  first  expressed  the  strong  sense  of  that  body,  that  the 
old  confederation  was  not  adequate  to  the  exigencies  of  the  country,  and  re 
commending  to  the  states  to  send  delegates  to  the  convention  which  formedy 
the  present  constitution.  ~"  / 

An  attempt  has  been  made  to  transfer  from  the  north  to  the  south  the 
honor  of  this  exclusion  of  slavery  from,  the  North-western  Territory.  The 
journal,  without  argument  or  comment,  refutes  such  attempt.  The  session  of 
Virginia  was  made  March,  1784.  On  the  19th  of  April  following,  a  com 
mittee,  consisting  of  Messrs.  Jefferson,  Chase  and  Howell,  veported  a  plan  for 
a  temporary  government  of  the  territory,  in  which  was  this  article :  "  That 
after  the  year  1800,  there  should  be  neither  slavery  nor  involuntary  servitude 
in  any  of  the  said  states,  otherwise  than  in  punishment  of  crimes,  whereof  the 
party  shall  have  been  convicted."  Mr.  Speight,  of  North  Carolina,  moved  to 
strike  out  this  paragraph.  The  question  was  put,  according  to  the  form  then 
practiced :  "  Shall  these  words  stand,  as  part  of  the  plan  ?"  &c.  New  Hamp 
shire,  Massachusetts,  Rhode  Island,  Connecticut,  New  York,  New  Jersey,  and 
Pennsylvania  —  seven  states  —  voted  in  the  affirmative;  Maryland,  Virginia 
and  South  Carolina,  in  the  negative.  North  Carolina  was  divided.  As  the 
consent  of  nine  states  was  necessary,  the  words  could  not  stand,  and  were 
struck  out  accordingly.  Mr.  Jefferson  voted  for  the  clause,  but  was  overruled 
by  his  collegues.  \ 

In  March  of  the  next  year  (1785)  Mr.  King,  of  Massachusetts,  seconded  j 
by  Mr.  Ellery,  of  Rhode  Island,  proposed  the  formerly  rejected  article,  with 
this  addition :  "  And  that  this  regulation  shall  be  an  article  of  compact,  and 
remain  a  fundamental  principle  of  the  constitution  between  the  thirteen 
original  states  and  each  of  the  states  described  in  the  resolve"  &c.  On 
this  clause,  which  provided  the  adequate  and  thorough  security,  the  eight 
Northern  States,  at  that  time,  voted  affirmatively,  and  the  four  Southern 
States  negatively.  The  votes  of  nine  states  were  not  yet  obtained,  and  thus 
the  provision  was  again  rejected  by  the  Southern  States.  The  perseverence 
of  the  north  held  out,  and  two  years  afterwards  the  object  was  attained.  It  is 
no  derogation  from  the  credit,  whatever  that  may  be,  of  drawing  the  ordi 
nance,  that  its  principles  had  before  been  prepared  and  discussed,  in  the  form  » 
of  resolutions.  If  one  should  reason  in  that  way,  what  would  become  of  tbe 
distinguished  honor  of  the  author  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  ?  There 
is  not  a  sentiment  in  that  paper  which  had  not  been  voted  and  resolved  in 
the  assemblies,  and  other  popular  bodies  in  the  country,  over  and  over  again. 

But  the  honorable  member  has  now  found  out  that  this  gentleman,  Mr. 
Dane,  was  a  member  of  the  Hartford  Convention.  However  uninformed  the 
honorable  member  may  be  of  characters  and  occurrences  at  the  north,  it  would 
seem  that  he  has  at  his  elbows,  on  this  occasion,  some  high-minded  and  lofty 
spirit,  some  magnanimous  and  true-hearted  monitor,  possessing  the  means  of 


180 

local  knowledge,  and  ready  to  supply  the  honorable  member  with  every  thing, 
down  even  to  forgotten  and  moth-eaten  twopenny  pamphlets,  which  may  bo 
used  to  the  disadvantage  of  his  own  country.  But,  as  to  the  Hartford  Con 
vention,  sir,  allow  me  to  say  that  the  proceedings  of  that  body  seem  now  to 
be  less  read  and  studied  in  New  England  than  farther  South.  They  appear 
to  be  looked  to,  not  in  New  England,  but  elsewhere,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing 
how  far  they  may  serve  as  a  precedent.  But  they  will  not  answer  the  pur 
pose  —  they  are  quite  too  tame.  The  latitude  in  which  they  originated  was 
too  cold.  Other  conventions,  of  more  recent  existence,  have  gone  a  whole 
bar's  length  beyond  it.  The  learned  doctors  of  Colleton  and  Abbeville  have 
pushed  their  commentaries  on  the  Hartford  collect  so  far  that  the  original  text 
writers  are  thrown  entirely  into  the  shade.  I  have  nothing  to  do,  sir,  with  the 
Hartford  Convention.  Its  journal,  which  the  gentleman  has  quoted,  I  never 
read.  So  far  as  the  honorable  member  may  discover  in  its  proceedings  a 
spirit  in  any  degree  resembling  that  which  wras  avowed  and  justified  in  those 
other  conventions  to  which  I  have  alluded,  or  so  far  as  those  proceedings  can 
be  shown  to  be  disloyal  to  the  constitution,  or  tending  to  disunion,  so  far  I 
shall  be  as  ready  as  any  one  to  bestow  OTJ  ||iAm  r^prp^r^io^  anrl  ^pnsnm. 
'  Having  dwelt  long  on  this  convention,  and  other  occurrences  of  thai;  day," 
in  the  hope,  probably,  (which  will  not  be  gratified,)  that  I  should  leave  the 
course  of  this  debate  to  follow  him  at  length  in  those  excursions,  the  honora 
ble  member  returned,  and  attempted  another  object.  He  referred  to  a  speech 
of  mine  in  the  other  house,  the  same  which  I  had  occasion  to  allude  to  myself 
the  other  day ;  and  has  quoted  a  passage  or  two  from  it,  with  a  bold  though 
uneasy  and  laboring  air  of  confidence,  as  if  he  had  detected  in  me  an  incon 
sistency.  Judging  from  the  gentleman's  manner,  a  stranger  to  the  course  of 
the  debate,  and  to  the  point  in  discussion,  would  have  imagined,  from  so  tri 
umphant  a  tone,  that  the  honorable  member  was  about  to  overwhelm  me  with 
a  manifest  contradiction.  Any  one  who  heard  him,  and  who  had  not  heard 
what  I  had,  in  fact,  previously  said,  must  have  thought  me  routed  and  dis 
comfited,  as  the  gentleman  had  promised.  Sir,  a  breath  blows  all  this  triumph 
away.  There  is  not  the  slightest  difference  in  the  sentiments  of  my  remarks 
on  the  two  occasions.  What  I  said  here  on  Wednesday  is  in  exact  accordance 
with  the  opinions  expressed  by  me  in  the  other  house  in  1825.  Though  the 
gentleman  had  the  metaphysics  of  Hudibras  —  though  he  were  able 

"  to  sever  and  divide 
A  hair  'twixt  north  and  north-west  side." 

he  could  not  yet  insert  his  metaphysical  scissors  between  the  fair  reading  of 
my  remaiks  in  1825  and  what  I  said  here  last  week.  There  is  not  only  no 
contradiction,  no  difference,  but,  in  truth,  too  exact  a  similiarity,  both  in 
thought  and  language,  to  be  entirely  in  just  taste.  I  had  myself  quoted  the 
same  speech;  had  recurred  to  it,  and  spoke  with  it  open  before  me;  and 
much  of  what  I  said  was  little  more  than  a  repetition  from  it.  In  order  to 
make  finishing  work  with  this  alleged  contradiction,  permit  me  to  recur  to 
the  origin  of  this  debate,  and  review  its  course.  This  seems  expedient,  and 

y  be  done  as  well  now  as  at  any  time. 

Well,  then,  its  history  is  this:  the  honorable  member  from  Connecticut 
moved  a  resolution,  which  constituted  the  first  branch  of  that  which  is  now 
before  us;  that  is  to  say,  a  resolution  instructing  the  committee  on  public 
lands  to  inquire  into  the  expediency  of  limiting,  for  a  certain  period,  the  salei 


181 

of  public  lands  to  such  as  have  heretofore  been  offered  for  sale ;  and  whether 
sundry  offices,  connected  with  the  sales  of  the  lands,  might  not  be  abolished 
without  detriment  to  the  public  service. 

In  the  progress  of  the  discussion  which  arose  on  this  resolution,  an  honora 
ble  member  from  New  Hampshire  moved  to  amend  the  resolution,  so  as  en 
tirely  to  reverse  its  object ;  that  is,  to  strike  it  all  out,  and  insert  a  direction  to 
the  committee  to  inquire  into  the  expediency  of  adopting  measures  to  hasten, 
the  sales,  and  extend  more  rapidly  the  surveys  of  the  lands. 

The  honorable  member  from  Maine  (Mr.  Sprague)  suggested  that  both 
these  propositions  might  well  enough  go,  for  consideration,  to  the  committee; 
and  in  this  state  of  the  question,  the  member  from  South  Carolina  addressed 
the  Senate  in  his  first  speech.  He  rose,  he  said,  to  give  us  his  own  free 
thoughts  on  the  public  lands.  I  saw  him  rise,  with  pleasure,  and  listened 
with  expectation,  though  before  he  concluded  I  was  rilled  with  surprise.  Cer 
tainly,  I  was  never  more  surprised  than  to  find  him  following  up,  to  the  ex 
tent  he  did,  the  sentiments  and  opinions  which  the  gentleman  from  Missouri 
had  put  forth,  and  which  it  is  known  he  has  long  entertained. 

I  need  not  repeat,  at  large,  the  general  topics  of  the  honorable  gentleman's 
speech.  When  he  said,  yesterday,  that  he  did  not  attack  the  Eastern  States, 
he  certainly  must  have  forgotten  not  only  particular  remarks,  but  the  whole 
drift  and  tenor  of  his  speech;  unless  he  means  by  not  attacking,  that  he  did 
not  commence  hostilities,  but  that  another  had  preceded  him  in  the  attack. 
He,  in  the  first  place,  disapproved  of  the  wrhole  course  of  the  government  for 
forty  years,  in  regard  to  its  dispositions  of  the  public  land ;  and  then,  turning 
northward  and  eastward,  and  fancying  he  had  found  a  cause  for  alleged  nar 
rowness  and  niggardliness  in  the  "  accursed  policy  "  of  the  tariff,  to  which  he 
represented  the  people  of  New  England  as  wedded,  he  went  on,  for  a  full 
hour,  with  remarks,  the  whole  scope  of  which  was  to  exhibit  the  results  of 
this  policy,  in  feelings  and  in  measures  unfavorable  to  the  west.  I  thought 
his  opinions  unfounded  and  erroneous,  as  to  the  general  course  of  the  gov 
ernment,  and  ventured  to  reply  to  them. 

The  gentleman  had  remarked  on  the  analogy  of  other  cases,  and  quoted 
the  conduct  of  European  governments  towards  their  own  subjects,  settling  on 
this  continent,  as  in  point,  to  show  that  we  had  been  harsh  and  rigid  in  sel 
ling  when  we  should  have  given  the  public  lands  to  settlers.  I  thought  the 
honorable  member  had  suffered  his  judgment  to  be  betrayed  by  a  false  analo 
gy  ;  that  he  was  struck  with  an  appearance  of  resemblance  where  there  was 
no  real  similitude.  I  think  so  still.  The  first  settlers  of  North  America  were 
enterprising  spirits,  engaging  in  private  adventure,  or  fleeing  from  tyranny  at 
home.  When  arrived  here,  they  were  forgotten  by  the  mother  country,  or 
remembered  only  to  be  oppressed.  Carried  away  again  by  the  appearance  of 
analogy,  or  struck  with  the  eloquence  of  the  passage,  the*  honorable  member 
yesterday  observed  that  the  conduct  of  government  towards  the  western  emi 
grants,  or  my  representation  of  it,  brought  to  his  mind  a  celebrated  speech  in 
the  British  Parliament.  It  was,  sir,  the  speech  of  Colonel  Barre.  On  the 
question  of  the  stamp  act,  or  tea  tax,  I  forget  which,  Colonel  Barre  had  heard 
a  member  on  the  treasury  bench  argue,  that  the  people  of  the  United  States, 
being  British  colonists,  planted  by  the  maternal  care,  nourished  by  the  indul 
gence,  and  protected  by  the  arms  of  England,  would  not  grudge  their  mite  to 
relieve  the  mother  country  from  the  heavy  burden  under  which  she  groaned. 
The  language  of  Colonel  Barre,  in  repfy  to  this,  was,  "  They  planted  by  your 
care  ?  Your  oppression  planted  them  in  America.  They  fled  from  your  ty 


182 

ranny,  and  grew  by  your  neglect  of  them.  So  soon  as  you  began  to  care  for 
them,  you  showed  your  care  by  sending  persons  to  spy  out  their  liberties,  mis 
represent  their  character,  prey  upon  them,  and  eat  out  their  substance." 

And  does  this  honorable  gentleman  mean  to  maintain  that  language  like 
this  is  applicable  to  the  conduct  of  the  government  of  the  United  States  to 
wards  the  western  emigrants,  or  to  any  representation  given  by  me  of  that 
conduct  ?  Were  the  settlers  in  the  west  driven  thither  by  our  oppression  ? 
Have  they  flourished  only  by  our  neglect  of  them?  Has  the  government 
done  nothing  but  prey  upon  them,  and  eat  out  their  substance  ?  Sir,  this  fer 
vid  eloquence  of  the  British  speaker,  just  when  and  where  it  was  uttered,  and 
fit  to  remain  an  exercise  for  the  schools,  is  not  a  little  out  of  place,  when  it 
was  brought  thence  to  be  applied  here,  to  the  conduct  of  our  own  country 
towards  her  own  citizens.  From  America  to  England  it  may  be  true ;  from 
Americans  to  their  own  government  it  would  be  strange  language.  Let  us 
leave  it  to  be  recited  and  declaimed  by  our  boys  against  a  foreign  nation ;  not 
introduce  it  here,  to  recite  and  declaim  ourselves  against  our  own. 
TBut  I  come  to  the  point  of  the  alleged  contradiction.  In  my  remarks  on 
Wednesday,  I  contended  that  we  could  not  give  away  gratuitously  all  the 
public  lands ;  that  we  held  them  in  trust ;  that  the  government  had  solemnly 
pledged  itself  to  dispose  of  them  as  a  common  fund  for  the  common  benefit, 
and  to  sell  and  settle  them  as  its  discretion  should  dictate.  Now,  sir,  what 
contradiction  does  the  gentleman  find  to  this  sentiment  in  the  speech  of  1825  ? 
He  quotes  me  as  having  then  said,  that  we  ought  not  to  hug  these  lands  as  a 
very  great  treasure.  Very  well,  sir;  supposing  me  to  be  accurately  reported 
in  that  expression,  what  is  the  contradiction  ?  I  have  not  now  said,  that  we 
should  hug  these  lands  as  a  favorite  source  of  pecuniary  income.  No  such 
thing.  It  is  not  my  view.  What  I  have  said,  and  what  I  do  say,  is,  that 
they  are  a  common  fund  —  to  be  disposed  of  for  the  common  benefit  —  to  be 
sold  at  low  prices,  for  the  accommodation  of  settlers,  keeping  the  object  of 
settling  the  lands  as  much  in  view  as  that  of  raising  money  from  them.  This 
I  say  now,  and  this  I  have  always  said.  Is  this  hugging  them  as  a  favorite 
treasure  ?  Is  there  no  difference  between  hugging  and  hoarding  this  fund, 
on  the  one  hand  as  a  great  treasure,  and  on  the  other  of  disposing  of  it  at 
low  prices,  placing  the  proceeds  in  the  general  treasury  of  the  Union  ?  My 
opinion  is,  that  as  much  is  to  be  made  of  the  land,  as  fair  and  reasonably  may 
be,  selling  it  all  the  while  at  such  rates  as  to  give  the  fullest  effect  to  settle 
ment.  This  is  not  giving  it  all  away  to  the  states,  as  the  gentleman  would 
propose ;  nor  is  it  hugging  the  fund  closely  and  tenaciously,  as  a  favorite  trea- 
eure ;  but  it  is,  in  my  judgment,  a  just  and  wise  policy,  perfectly  according 
with  all  the  various  duties  which  rest  on  government.  So  much  for  my  con 
tradiction.  And  what  is  it?  Where  is  the  ground  of  the  gentleman's  tri 
umph  ?  What  inconsistency,  in  word  or  doctrine,  has  he  been  able  to  detect  ? 
Sir,  if  this  be  a  sample  of  that  discomfiture  with  which  the  honorable  gentle 
man  threatened  me,  commend  me  to  the  word  discomfiture  for  the  rest  of 

my  life.'/''  - 

"~"  Uiit,  after  all,  this  is  not  the  point  of  the  debate ;  and  I  must  bring  the 
gentleman  back  to  that  which  is  the  point. 

The  real  question  between  me  and  him  is,  Where  has  the  doctrine  been 
advanced,  at  the  south  or  the  east,  that  the  population  of  the  west  should  be 
retarded,  or,  at  least,  need  not  be  hastened,  on  account  of  its  effect  to  drain  off 
the  people  from  the  Atlantic  States?  Is  this  doctrine,  as  has  been  alleged,  of 
eastern  origin  ?  That  is  the  question.  Has  the  gentleman  found  anything  by 


183 

which  lie  can  make  good  his  accusation  ?     I  submit  to  the  Senate,  that  he  has 

entirely  failed ;  and  as  far  as  this  debate  has  shown,  the  only  person  who  has 

advanced  such  sentiments  is  a  gentleman  from  South  Carolina,  and  a  friend  to 

the  honorable  member  himself.     This '  honorable  gentleman  has  given  no 

answer  to  this ;  there  is  none  which  can  be  given.     This  simple  fact,  while  it 

requires  no  comment  to  enforce  it,  defies  all  argument  to  refute  it.     I  could 

refer  to  the  speeches  of  another  southern  gentlemen,  in  years  before,  of  the 

I  same  general  character,  and  to  the  same  effect,  as  that  which  has  been  quoted; 

J  but  I  will  not  consume  the  time  of  the  Senate  by  the  reading  of  them.  . 

I      So  then,  sir,  New  England  is  guiltless  of  the  policy  of  retarding  westerns 

I  population,  and  of  all  envy  and  jealousy  of  the  growth  of  the  new  states. 

I  Whatever  there  be  of  that  policy  in  the  country,  no  part  of  it  is  hers.     If  it 

|  has  a  local  habitation,  the  honorable  member  has  probably  seen,  by  this  time, 

where  he  is  to  look  for  it ;  and  if  it  now  has  received  a  name,  he  himself  has^ 
i   christened  it 

We  approach,  at  length,  sir,  to  a  more  important  part  of  the  honorable  gen 
tleman's  observations.  Since  it  does  not  accord  with  my  views  of  justice  and 
policy,  to  vote  away  the  public  lands  altogether,  as  mere  matter  of  gratuity,  I 
am  asked,  by  the  honorable  gentleman,  on  what  ground  it  is  that  I  consent  to 
give  them  away  in  particular  instances.  How,  he  inquires,  do  I  reconcile  with 
these  professed  sentiments  my  support  of  measures  appropriating  portions  of 
the  lands  to  particular  roads,  particular  canals,  particular  rivers,  and  particular 
institutions  of  education  in  the  west  ?  This  leads,  sir,  to  the  real  and  wide 
difference  in  political  opinions  between  the  honorable  gentleman  and  myself. 
On  my  part,  I  look  upon  all  these  objects  as  connected  with  the  common  good, 
fairly  embraced  in  its  objects  and  its  terms ;  he,  on  the  contrary,  deems  them 
all,  if  good  at  all,  only  local  good.  This  is  our  difference.  The  interrogatory 
which  he  proceeded  to  put,  at  once  explains  this  difference.  "  What  interest,"! 
asks  he,  "  has  South  Carolina  in  a  canal  in  Ohio  ? "  Sir,  this  very  question  ia 
full  of  significance.  It  develops  the  gentleman's  whole  political  system;  and' 
its  answer  expounds  mine.  Here  we  differ  toto  coslo.  I  look  upon  a  road 
over  the  Alleghany,  a  canal  round  the  falls  of  the  Ohio,  or  a  canal  or  railway 
from  the  Atlantic  to  the  western  waters,  as  being  objects  large  and  extensive 
enough  to  be  fairly  said  to  be  for  the  common  benefit.  The  gentleman  thinks 
otherwise,  and  this  is  the  key  to  open  his  construction  of  the  powers  of  the 
government.  He  may  well  ask,  upon  his  system,  What  interest  has  South 
Carolina  in  a  canal  in  Ohio  ?  On  that  system,  it  is  true,  she  has  no  interest 
On  that  system,  Ohio  and  Carolina  are  different  governments  and  different 
countries,  connected  here,  it  is  true,  by  some  slight  and  ill-defined  bond  of 
union,  but  in  all  main  respects  separate  and  diverse.  On  that  system,  Caroli 
na  has  no  more  interest  in  a  canal  in  Ohio  than  in  Mexico.  The  gentleman, 
therefore,  only  follows  out  his  own  principles ;  he  does  no  more  than  arrive  at 
the  natural  conclusions  of  his  own  doctrines ;  he  only  announces  the  true  re 
sults  of  that  creed  which  he  has  adopted  himself,  and  would  persuade  others 
to  adopt,  when  he  thus  declares  that  South  Carolina  has  no  interest  in  a  pub 
lic  work  in  Ohio.  Sir,  we  narrow-minded  people  of  New  England  do  not 
reason  thus.  Our  notion  of  things  is  entirely  different.  We  look  upon  the 
states,  not  as  separated,  but  as  united.  We  love  to  dwell  on  that  Union,  and 
on  the  mutual  happiness  which  it  has  so  much  promoted,  and  the  common 
renown  which  it  has  so  greatly  contributed  to  acquire!  In  our  contemplation, 
Carolina  and  Ohio  are  parts  of  the  same  country  —  states  united  under  the 
•ame  general  government,  having  interests  common,  associated,  intermingled. 


184 

In  whatever  is  within  the  proper  sphere  of  the  constitutional  power  of  thia 
government,  we  look  upon  the  states  as  one.  We  do  not  impose  geographi 
cal  limits  to  our  patriotic  feeling  or  regard ;  we  do  not  follow  rivers,  and  moun 
tains,  and  lines  of  latitude,  to  rind  boundaries  beyond  which  public  improve 
ments  do  not  benefit  us.  We,  who  come  here  as  agents  and  representatives 
of  those  narrow-minded  and  selfish  men  of  New  England,  consider  ourselves 
as  bound  to  regard,  with  equal  exfi^the  good  of  the  whole,  in  whatever  is 
within  our  power  of  legislation.  £Sir,  if  a  railroad  or  canal,  beginning  in  South* 
Carolina,  appeared  to  me  to  be  oT'national  importance  and  national  magni 
tude,  believing  as  I  do  that  the  power  of  government  extends  to  the  encour-j 
agement  of  works  of  that  description,  if  1  were  to  stand  up  here  and  ask,  I 
"  What  interest  has  Massachusetts  in  a  railroad  in  South  Carolina  ? "  I  should 
not  be  willing  to  face  my  constituents.  These  same  narrow-minded  men 
would  tell  me  that  they  had  sent  me  to  act  for  the  whole  country,  and  that 
one  who  possessed  too  little  comprehension,  either  of  intellect  or  feeling, —  one 
who  was  not  large  enough,  in  mind  and  heart,  to  embrace  the  whole, —  was 
not  fit  to  be  intrusted  with  the  interest  of  any  part.  \  Sir,  I  do  not  desiie  to 
enlarge  the  powers  of  government  by  unjustifiable  construction,  nor  to  exer 
cise  any  not  within  a  fair  interpretation.  But  when  it  is  believed  that  a  pow 
er  does  exist,  then  it  is,  in  my  judgment,  to  be  exercised  for  the  general  benefit 
of  the  whole :  so  far  as  respects  the  exercise  of  such  a  power,  the  states  are 
one.  It  was  the  very  great  object  of  the  constitution  to  create  unity  of  inter 
ests  to  the  extent  of  the  powers  of  the  general  government.  In  war  and 
peace  we  are  one ;  in  commerce  one ;  because  the  authority  of  the  general 
government  reaches  to  war  and  peace,  and  to  the  regulation  of  commerce.  I 
have  never  seen  any  more  difficulty  in  erecting  lighthouses  on  the  lakes  than 
on  the  ocean ;  in  improving  the  harbors  of  inland  seas,  than  if  they  were  with 
in  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tide ;  or  of  removing  obstructions  in  the  vast 
streams  of  the  west,  more  than  in  any  work  to  facilitate  commerce  on  the  At 
lantic  coast.  If  there  be  power  for  one,  there  is  power  also  for- the  other;  and 
they  are  all  and  equally  for  the  country. 

There  are  other  objects,  apparently  more  local,  or  the  benefit  of  which  is 
less  general,  towards  which,  nevertheless,  I  have  concurred  with  others  to  give 
aid  by  donations  of  land.  It  is  proposed  to  construct  a  road  in  or  through 
one  of  the  new  states  in  which  the  government  possesses  large  quantities  of 
land.  Have  the  United  States  no  right,  as  a  great  and  untaxed  proprietor  — 
are  they  under  no  obligation  —  to  contribute  to  an  object  thus  calculated  to 
promote  the  common  good  of  all  the  proprietors,  themselves  included  ?  And 
even  with  respect  to  education,  which  is  the  extreme  case,  let  the  question  be 
considered.  In  the  first  place,  as  we  have  seen,  it  was  made  matter  of  com 
pact  with  these  states  that  they  should  do  their  part  to  promote  education.  In 
the  next  place,  our  whole  system  of  land  laws  proceeds  on  the  idea  that  edu 
cation  is  for  the  common  good-;  because,  in  every  division,  a  certain  portion  is 
uniformly  reserved  and  appropriated  for  the  use  of  schools.  And,  finally 
have  not  these  new  states  singularly  strong  claims,  founded  on  the  ground  al 
ready  stated,  that  the  government  is  a  great  untaxed  proprietor  in  the  owner 
ship  of  the  soil  ?  It  is  a  consideration  of  great  importance  that  probably 
there  is  in  no  part  of  the  country,  or  of  the  world,  so  great  a  call  for  the 
means  of  education  as  in  those  new  states,  owing  to  the  vast  number  of  per 
sons  within  those  ages  in  which  education  and  instruction  are  usually  received, 
if  received  at  all.  This  is  the  natural  consequence  of  recency  of  settlement 
and  rapid  increase.  The  census  of  these  states  shows  how  great  a  proportion 


185 

of  the  "whole  population  occupies  the  classes  between  infancy  and  childhood. 
These  are  the  wide  fields,  and  here  is  the  deep  and  quick  soil  for  the  seeds  of 
knowledge  and  virtue ;  and  this  is  the  favored  season,  the  spring  time  for 
sowing  them.  Let  them  be  disseminated  without  stint.  Let  them  be  scat 
tered  with  a  bountiful  broadcast.  Whatever  the  government  can  fairly  do 
towards  these  objects,  in  my  opinion,  ought  to  be  done. 

These,  sir,  are  the  grounds,succinctly  stated,  on  which  my  votes  for  grants 
of  lands  for  particular  objects  rest,  while  I  maintain,  at  the  same  time,  that  it 
is  all  a  common  fund,  for  the  common  benefit.  And  reasons  like  these,  I 
presume,  have  influenced  the  votes  of  other  gentlemen  from  New  England. 
Those  who  have  a  different  view  of  the  powers  of  the  government,  of  course, 
come  to  different  conclusions  on  these  as  on  other  questions.  I  observed, 
when  speaking  on  this  subject  before,  that  if  we  looked  to  any  measure, 
whether  for  a  road,  a  canal,  or  any  thing  else  intended  for ,  the  improvement 
of  the  west,,  it  would  be  found,  that  if  the  New  England  ayes  were  struck 
out  of  the  list  of  votes,  the  southern  noes  would  always  have  rejected  the 
measure.  The  truth  of  this  has  not  been  denied,  and  cannot  be  denied.  In 
stating  this,  I  thought  it  just  to  ascribe  it  to  the  constitutional  scruples  of  the 
south,  rather  than  to  any  other  less  favorable  or  less  charitable  cause.  But 
no  sooner  had  I  done  this,  than  the  honorable  gentleman  asks  if  I  reproach 
him  and  his  friends  with  their  constitutional  scruples.  Sir,  I  reproach  nobody. 
I  stated  a  fact,  and  gave  the  most  respectful  reason  for  it  that  occurred  to  me. 
The  gentleman  cannot  deny  the  fact — he  may,  if  he  choose,  disclaim  the 
reason.  It  is  not  long  since  I  had  occasion,  in  presenting  a  petition  from  his 
own  state,  to  account  for  its  being  intrusted  to  my  hands  by  saying,  that  the 
constitutional  opinions  of  the  gentleman  and  his  worthy  colleague  prevented 
them  from  supporting  it.  Sir,  did  I  state  this  as  a  matter  of  reproach  ?  Far 
from  it.  Did  I  attempt  to  find  any  other  cause  than  an  honest  one  for  these 
scruples  ?  Sir,  I  did  not.  It  did  not  become  me  to  doubt,  nor  to  insinuate 
that  the  gentleman  had  either  changed  his  sentiments,  or  that  he  had  made 
up  a  set  of  constitutional  opinions,  accommodated  to  any  particular  combina 
tion  of  political  occurrences.  Had  I  done  so,  I  should  have  felt,  that  while  I 
was  entitled  to  little  respect  in  thus  questioning  other  people's  motives,  I  jus 
tified  the  whole  world  in  suspecting  my  own. 

But  how  has  the  gentleman  returned  this  respect  for  others'  opinions  ?  His 
own  candor  and  justice,  how  have  they  been  exhibited  towards  the  motives 
of  others,  while  he  has  been  at  so  much  pains  to  maintain  —  what  nobody 
has  disputed  —  the  purity  of  his  own  ?  Why,  sir,  he  has  asked  when,  and 
how,  and  why  New  England  votes  were  found  going  for  measures  favorable 
to  the  west ;  he  has  demanded  to  be  informed  whether  all  this  did  not  begin 
in  1825,  and  while  the  election  of  President  was  still  pending.  Sir,  to 
these  questions  retort  would  be  justified ;  and  it  is  both  cogent  and  at  hand. 
Nevertheless,  I  will  answer  the  inquiry  not  by  retort,  but  by  facts.  I  will  tell 
the  gentleman  when,  and  how,  and  why  New  England  has  supported  meas 
ures  favorable  to  the  west.  I  have  already  referred  to  the  early  history  of  the 
government  —  to  the  first  acquisition  of  the  lands  —  to  the  original  laws  for 
disposing  of  them  and  for  governing  the  territories  where  they  lie ;  and  have 
shown  the  influence  of  New  England  men  and  Ne^  England  principles  in  all 
these  leading  measures.  I  should  not  be  pardoned  were  I  to  go  over  that 
ground  again.  Coming  to  more  recent  times,  and  to  measures  of  a  less  gene 
ral  character,  I  have  endeavored  to  prove  that  every  thing  of  this  kind  designed 
for  western  improvement  has  depended  on  the  votes  of  New  England.  All 
this  is  true  beyond  the  power  of  contradiction. 


186 

And  now,  sir,  there  are  two  measures  to  which  I  will  refer,  not  so  ancient 
as  to  belong  to  the  early  history  of  the  public  lands,  and  not  so  recent  as  to 
be  on  this  side  of  the  period  when  the  gentleman  charitably  imagines  a  new 
direction  may  have  been  given  to  New  England  feeling  and  New  England 
votes.  These  measures,  arid  the  New  England  votes  in  support  of  them,  may 
be  taken  as  samples  and  specimens  of  all  the  rest.  In  1820,  (observe,  Mr. 
President,  in  1820,)  the  people  of  the  west  besought  Congress  for  a  reduction 
in  the  price  of  lands.  In  favor  of  that  reduction,  New  England,  with  a  dele 
gation  of  forty  members  in  the  other  house,  gave  thirty-three  votes,  and  one 
only  against  it.  The  four  Southern  States,  with  fifty  members,  gave  thirty- 
two  votes  foi  it,  and  seven  against  it.  Again,  in  1821,  (observe  again,  sir,  the 
time,)  the  law  passed  for  the  relief  of  the  purchasers  of  the  public  lands. 
This  was  a  measure  of  vital  importance  to  the  west,  and  more  especially  to 
the  south-west  It  authorized  the  reliiiquishment  of  contracts  for  lands,  which 
had  been  entered  into  at  high  prices,  and  a  reduction,  in  other  cases,  of  not 
less  than  37^-  per  cent,  on  the  purchase  money.  Many  millions  of  dollars,  six 
or  seven  I  believe,  at  least,  —  probably  much  more,  —  were  relinquished  by 
this  law.  On  this  bill  New  England,  with  her  forty  members,  gave  more  af 
firmative  votes  than  the  four  Southern  States  with  their  fifty-two  or  three 
members.  These  two  are  far  the  most  important  measures  respecting  the 
public  lands  which  have  been  adopted  within  the  last  twenty  years.  They 
took  place  in  1820  and  1821.  That  is  the  time  when.  And  as  to  the  man 
ner  how,  the  gentleman  already  sees  that  it  was  by  voting,  in  solid  column, 
for  the  required  relief;  and  lastly,  as  to  the  cause  why,  I  tell  the  gentleman,  it 
was  because  the  members  from  New  England  thought  the  measures  just  and 
salutary;  because  they  entertained  towards  the  west  neither  envy,  hatred,  nor 
malice;  because  they  deemed  it  becoming  them,  as  just  and  enlightened  pub 
lic  men,  to  meet  the  exigency  which  had  arisen  in  the  west  with  the  appro 
priate  measure  of  relief;  because  they  felt  it  due  toftheir  own  characters  of 
their  New  England  predecessors  in  this  government^  to  act  towards  the  new 
states  in  the  spirit  of  a  liberal,  patronizing,  magnanimous  policy.  So  much, 
sir,  for  the  cause  why ;  and  I  hope  that  by  this  time,  sir,  the  honorable  gen 
tleman  is  satisfied;  if  not,  I  do  not  know  when,  or  hoiv,  or  why,  he  ever 
will  bo. 

Having  recurred  to  these  two  important  measures,  in  answer  to  the  gentle 
man's  inquiries,  I  must  now  beg  permission  to  go  back  to  a  period  still  some 
thing  earlier,  for  the  purpose  still  further  of  showing  how  much,  or  rather 
how  little  reason  there  is  for  the  gentleman's  insinuation  that  political  hopes, 
or  fears,  or  party  associations,  were  the  grounds  of  these  New  England  votes. 
And  after  what  has  been  said,  I  hope  it  may  be  forgiven  me  if  I  allude  to 
some  political  opinions  and  votes  of  my  own,  of  very  little  public  importance, 
certainly,  but  which,  from  the  time  at  which  they  were  given  and  expressed, 

mav.  pass  ibrjrood  witnesses  on  this  occasion. ^ 

/v Tliis  government,  Ml1.  President,  from  its  origin  to  the  peace  of  1815,  had 
been  too  much  engrossed  with  various  other  important  concerns  to  be  able  to 
turn  its  thoughts  inward,  and  look  to  the  development  of  its  vast  internal  re 
sources.  In  the  early  part  of  President  Washington's  administration,  it  was 
fully  occupied  with  organizing  the  government,  providing  for  the  public  debt, 
defending  the  frontiers,  and  maintaining  domestic  peace.  Before  the  termina 
tion  pf  that  administration,  the  fires  of  the  French  revolution  blazed  forth,  aa 
from  a  new  opened  volcano,  and  the  whole  breadth  of  the  ocean  did  not  en 
tirely  secure  us  from  its  effects.  The  smoke  and  the  cinde/s  reached  us,  though 


187 

not  the  burning  lava.  Difficult  and  agitating  questions,  embarrassing  to  go?- 
erament,  and  dividing  public  opinion,  sprung  out  of  the  new  state  of  our  for 
eign  relations,  and  were  succeeded  by  others,  and  yet  again  by  others,  equally 
embarrassing,  and  equally  exciting  division  and  discord,  through  the  long  se 
ries  of  twenty  years,  till  they  finally  issued  in  the  war  with  England.  Down 
to  the  close  of  that  war,  no  distinct,  marked  and  deliberate  attention  had  been 
given,  or  could  have  been  given,  to  the  internal  condition  of  the  country,  its 
capacities  of  improvement,  or  the  constitutional  power  of  the  government,  in 
regard  to  objects  connected  with  such  improvement. 

The  peace,  Mr.  President,  brought  about  an  entirely  new  and  a  most  inter 
esting  state  of  things ;  it  opened  to  us  other  prospects,  and  suggested  other 
duties;  we  ourselves  were  changed,  and  the  whole  world  was  changed.  The 
pacification  of  Europe,  after  June,  1815,  assumed  a  firm  and  permanent  as 
pect.  The  nations  evidently  manifested  that  they  were  disposed  for  peace : 
some  agitation  of  the  waves  might  be  expected,  even  after  the  storm  had  sub 
sided  ;  but  the  tendency  was,  strongly  and  rapidly,  towards  settled  repose. 

It  so  happened,  sir,  that  I  was  at  that  time  a  member  of  Congress,  and, 
like  others,  naturally  turned  my  attention  to  the  contemplation  of  the  newly- 
altered  condition  of  the  country,  and  of  the  world.  It  appeared  plainly 
enough  to  me,  as  well  as  to  wiser  and  more  experienced  men,  that  the  policy 
of  the  government  would  necessarily  take  a  start  in  a  new  direction ;  because 
new  directions  would  necessarily  be  given  to  the  pursuits  and  occupations  of 
the  people.  We  had  pushed  our  commerce  far  and  fast,  under  the  advantage 
of'  a  neutral  flag.  But  there  were  now  no  longer  flags,  either  neutral  or  belli 
gerent.  The  harvest  of  neutrality  had  been  great,  but  we  had  gathered  it  all. 
With  the  peace  of  Europe,  it  was  obvious  there  would  spring  up,  in  her  circle 
of  nations,  a  revived  and  invigorated  spirit  of  trade,  and  a  new  activity  in  all 
the  business  and  objects  of  civilized  life.  Hereafter,  our  commercial  gains 
were  to  be  earned  only  by  success  in  a  close  and  intense  competition.  Other 
"nations  would  produce  for  themselves,  and  carry  for  themselves,  and  manufac 
ture  for  themselves,  to  the  full  extent  of  their  abilities.  The  crops  of  our 
plains  would  no  longer  sustain  European  armies,  nor  our  ships  longer  supply 
those  whom  war  had  rendered  unable  to  supply  themselves.  It  was  obvions 
that  under  these  circumstances,  the  country  would  begin  to  survey  itself,  and 
to  estimate  its  own  capacity  of  improvement.  And  this  improvement,  how 
was  it  to  be  accomplished,  and  who  was  to  accomplish  it  ?  „, 

We  were  ten  or  twelve  millions  of  people,  spread  over  almost  half  a  world. 
We  were  twenty-four  states,  some  stretching  along  the  same  sea-board,  some 
along  the  same  line  of  inland  frontier,  and  others  on  opposite  banks  of  the 
same  vast  rivers.  Two  considerations  at  once  presented  themselves,  in  looking 
at  this  state  of  things,  with  great  force.  One  was,  that  that  great  branch  of 
improvement,  which  consisted  in  furnishing  new  facilities  of  intercourse,  neces 
sarily  ran  into  different  states,  in  every  leading  instance,  and. 'would  benefit  tha 
citizens  of  all  such  states.  No  cne  state,  therefore,  in  such  cases,  would  as 
sume  the  whole  expense,  nor  was  the  co-operation  of  several  states  to  be  ex 
pected.  Take  the  instance  of  the  Delaware  Breakwater.  It  will  cost  several 
millions  of  money.  Would  Pennsylvania,  New  Jersey,  and  Delaware  have 
united  to  accomplish  it  at  their  joint  expense  ?  Certainly  not,  for  the  samo 
reason.  It  could  not  be  done,  therefore,  but  by  the  general  government.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  the  large  inland  undertakings,  except  that,  in  them,  gov 
ernment,  instead  of  bearing  the  whole  expense,  co-operates  with  others  to  bear 
a  part.  The  other  consideration  is,  that  the  United  States  have  the  means. 


188 

They  enjoy  the  revenues  derived  from  commerce,  and  the  states  have  no  abun 
dant  and  easy  sources  of  public  income.  The  custom  houses  fill  the  general 
treasury,  while  the  states  have  scanty  resources,  except  by  resort  to  heavy  di 
rect  taxes. 

Under  this  view  of  things,  I  thought  it  necessary  to  settle,  at  least  for  my 
self,  some  definite  notions,  with  respect  to  the  powers  of  government,  in  regard 
to  internal  affairs.  It  may  not  savor  too  much  of  self-commendation  to  re 
mark,  that,  with  this  object,  I  considered  the  constitution,  its  judicial  construc 
tion,  its  contemporaneous  exposition,  and  the  whole  history  of  the  legislation 
of  Congress  under  it;  and  1  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  government  had 
power  to  accomplish  sundry  objects,  or  aid  in  their  accomplishment,  which  are 
now  commonly  spoken  of  as  INTERNAL  IMPROVEMENTS.  That  conclusion,  sir, 
may  have  been  right,  or  it  may  have  been  wrong.  I  am  not  about  to  argue 
the  grounds  of  it  at  large.  I  say  only  that  it  was  adopted,  and  acted  on,  even 
so  early  as  in  1816.  Yes,  Mr.  President,  I  made  up  my  opinion,  and  deter 
mined  on  my  intended  course  of  political  conduct  on  these  subjects,  in  the 
14th  Congress  in  1816.  And  now,  Mr.  President,  I  have  further  to  say,  that 
I  made  up  these  opinions,  and  entered  on  this  course  of  political  conduct, 
Teucro  duce.  w Yes,  sir,  I  pursued,  in  all  this,  a  South  Carolina  track.  On* 
the  doctrines  of  internal  improvement,  South  Carolina,  as  she  was  then  repre 
sented  in  the  other  house,  set  forth,  in  1816,  under  a  fresh  and  leading  breeze; 
and  I  was  among  the  followers.  But  if  my  leader  sees  new  lights,  and  turns 
a  sharp  corner,  unless  I  see  new  lights  also,  I  keep  straight  on  in  the  same 
path.  I  repeat,  that  leading  gentlemen  from  South  Carolina  were  first  and 
foremost  in  behalf  of  the  doctrines  of  internal  improvements,  when  those  doc 
trines  first  came  to  be  considered  and  acted  upon  in  Congress.  The  debate  on 
the  bank  question,  on  the  tariff  of  1816,  and  on  the  direct  tax,  will  show  who 
was  who,  and  what  was  what,  at  that  time.  The  tariff  of  1816,  one  of  the 
plain  cases  of  oppression  and  usurpation,  from  which,  if  the  government  does 
not  recede,  individual  states  may  justly  secede  from  the  government,  is,  sir,  i 
truth,  a  South  Carolina  tariffj  supported  by  South  Carolina  votes.^  But  for 
those  votes,  it  could  not  have  passed  in  the  form  in  which  it  did  pass ;  whereas, 
if  it  had  depended  on  Massachusetts  votes,  it  would  have  been  lost.  Does  not 
the  honorable  gentleman  well  know  all  this?  There  are  certainly  those  who 
do  full  well  know  it  all.  I  do  not  say  this  to  reproach  South  Carolina ;  I 
only  state  the  fact,  and  I  think  it  will  appear  to  be  true,  that  among  the  ear 
liest  and  boldest  advocates  of  the  taritf,  as  a  measure  of  protection,  and  on 
the  express  ground  of  protection,  were  leading  gentlemen  of  South  Carolina 
in  Congress.  I  did  not  then,  and  cannot  now,  understand  their  language  in 
any  other  sense.  While  this  tariff  of  1816  was  under  discussion  in  the 
House  of  Representatives,  an  honorable  gentleman  from  Georgia,  now  of  this 
house,  (Mr.  Forsyth,)  moved  to  reduce  the  proposed  duty  on  cotton.  He 
failed  by  four  votes,  South  Carolina  giving  three  votes  (enough  to  have  turned 
the  scale)  against  his  motion.  The  act,  sir,  then  passed,  and  received  on  its 
passage  the  support  of  a  majority  of  the  representatives  of  South  Carolina 
present  and  voting.  This  act  is  the  first,  in  the  order  of  those  now  denounced 
as  plain  usurpations.  We  see  it  daily  in  the  list  by  the  side  of  those  of  1 824 
and  1828,  as  a  case  of  manifest  oppression,  justifying  disunion.  I  put  it  home 
to  the  honorable  member  from  South  Carolina,  that  his  own  state  was  not 
only  "art  and  part"  in  this  measure,  but  the  causa  causans.  Without  her 
aid,  this  seminal  principle  of  mischief,  this  root  of  upas,  could  not  have  been 
planted.  I  have  already. said — and  it  is  true  —  that  this  act  proceeded  on 


189 


the  ground  of  protection.  It  interfered  directly  with  existing  interests  of 
great  value  and  amount.  It  cut  up  the  Calcutta  cotton  trade  by  the  roots. 
But  it  passed,  nevertheless,  and  it  passed  on  the  principle  of  protecting  manu 
factures,  on  the  principle  against  free  trade,  on  the  principle  opposed  to  that 
which  lets  us  alone. 

Such,  Mr.  President,  were  the  opinions  of  important  and  leading  gentlemen 
of  South  Carolina,  on  the  subject  of  internal  improvement,  in  1816.  I  went 
out  of,  Congress  the  next  year,  and  returning  again  in  1823,  thought  I  found 
South  Carolina  where  I  had  left  her.  I  really  supposed  that  all  things  re 
mained  as  they  were,  and  that  the  South  Carolina  doctrine  of  internal  im 
provements  would  be  defended  by  the  same  eloquent  voices,  and  the  same 
strong  arms,  as  formerly.  In  the  lapse  of  these  six  years,  it  is  true,  political 
associations  had  assumed  a  new  aspect  and  new  divisions.  A  party  had  arisen 
in  the  south,  hostile  to  the  doctrine  of  internal  improvements,  and  had  vigor 
ously  attacked  that  doctrine.  Anti-consolidation  was  the  flag  under  which 
this  partv  fought,  and  its  supporters  inveighed  against  internal  improvements, 
much  after  the  same  manner  in  which  the  honorable  gentleman  has  now  in 
veighed  against  them,  as  part  and  parcel  of  the  system  of  consolidation. 

Whether  this  party  arose  in  South  Carolina  herself,  or  in  her  neighborhood, 
is  more  than  I  know.  I  think  the  latter.  However  that  may  have  been, 
there  were  those  found  in  South  Carolina  ready  to  make  war  upon  it,  and 
who  did  make  intrepid  war  upon  it.  Names  being  regarded  as  things,  in 
such  controversies,  they  bestowed  on  the  anti-improvement  gentlemen  the  ap 
pellation  of  radicals.  Yes,  sir,  the  name  of  radicals,  as  a  term  of  distinction, 
applicable  and  applied  to  those  who  defended  the  liberal  doctrines  of  internal 
improvements,  originated,  according  to  the  best  of  my  recollection,  somewhere 
between  North  Carolina  and  Georgia.  Well,  sir,  those  mischievous  radicals 
were  to  be  put  down,  and  the  strong  arm  of  South  Carolina  was  stretched  out 
to  put  them  down.  About  this  time,  sir,  I  returned  to  Congress.  The  battle 
with  the  radicals  had  been  fought,  and  our  South  Carolina  champions  of  the 
doctrine  of  internal  improvement  had  nobly  maintained  their  ground,  and 
were  understood  to  have  achieved  a  victory.  They  had  driven  back  the 
enemy  with  discomfiture ;  a  thing,  by  the  way,  sir,  which  is  not  always  per 
formed  when  it  is  promised.  A  gentleman,  to  whom  I  have  already  referred 
in  this  debate,  had  come  into  Congress,  during  my  absence  from  it,  from 
South  Carolina,  and  had  brought  with  him  a  high  reputation  for  ability.  He 
oame  from  a  school  with  which  we  had  been  acquainted,  et  nosdtur  a  sociis. 
I  hold  in  my  hand,  sir,  a  printed  speech  of  this  distinguished  gentleman, 
(Mr.  McDuFFiE,)  "  ON  INTERNAL  IMPROVEMENTS,"  delivered  about  the  period 
to  which  I  now  refer,  and  printed  with  a  few  introductory  remarks  upon  con 
solidation  ;  in  which,  sir,  I  think  he  quite  consolidated  the  arguments  of  his 
opponents,  the  radicals,  if  to  crush  be  to  consolidate.  I  give  you  a  short  but 
substantive  quotation  from  these  remarks.  He  is  speaking  of  a  pamphlet,  then 
recently  published,  entitled  "  Consolidation ;"  and  having  alluded  to  the  ques 
tion  of  rechartering  the  former  Bank  of  the  United  States,  he  says :  "  More 
over,  in  the  early  history  of  parties,  and  when  Mr.  Crawford  advocated  the 
renewal  of  the  old  charter,  it  was  considrred  a  federal  measure;  which  inter 
nal  improvement  never  was,  as  this  author  erroneously  states.  This  latter 
measure  originated  in  the  administration  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  with  the  appropria 
tion  for  the  Cumberland  road;  and  was  first  proposed,  as  a  system,  by  Mr. 
Calhoun,  and  carried  through  the  House  of  Representatives  by  a  large  majori 
ty  of  the  republicans,  including  almost  every  one  of  the  leading  men  who 
carried  us  through  the  late  war." 


190 

So,  then,  internal  improvement  is  not  one  of  the  federal  heresies.  One 
paragraph  more,  sir. 

tt  The  author  in  question,  not  content  with  denouncing  as  federalists  Gen. 
Jackson,  Mr.  Adams,  Mr.  Calhoun,  and  the  majority  of  the  South  Carolina 
delegation  in  Congress,  modestly  extends  the  denunciation  to  Mr.  Monroe  and 
the  whole  republican  party.  Here  are  his  words:  *  During  the  administra 
tion  of  Mr.  Monroe,  much  has  passed  which  the  republican  party  would  be 
glad  to  approve,  if  they  could ! !  But  the  principal  feature,  and  that  which 
has  chiefly  elicited  these  observations,  is  the  renewal  of  the  SYSTEM  OF  IN 
TERNAL  IMPROVEMENTS.'  Now,  this  measure  was  adopted  by  a  vote  of  115 
to  86,  of  a  republican  Congress,  and  sanctioned  by  a  republican  president. 
Who,  then,  is  this  author,  who  assumes  the  high  prerogative  of  denouncing, 
in  the  name  of  the  republican  party,  the  republican  administration  of  the 
country  —  a  denunciation  including  within  its  sweep  Calhoun,  Lowndes,  and 
Cheves;  men  who  will  be  regarded  as  the  brightest  ornaments  of  South 
Carolina,  and  the  strongest  pillars  of  the  republican  party,  as  long  as  the  late 
war  shall  be  remembered,  and  talents  and  patriotism  shall  be  regarded  as  the 
proper  objects  of  the  admiration  and  gratitude  of  a  free  people ! ! " 

Such  are  the  opinions,  sir,  which  were  maintained  by  South  Carolina  gen 
tlemen  in  the  House  of  Representatives  on  the  subject  of  internal  improve 
ment,  when  I  took  my  seat  there  as  a  member  from  Massachusetts,  in  1823. 
But  this  is  not  all ;  we  had  a  bill  before  us,  and  passed  it  in  that  house,  en 
titled  "  An  act  to  procure  the  necessary  surveys,  plans,  and  estimates  upon  the 
subject  of  roads  and  canals."  It  authorized  the  president  to  cause  surveys 
and  estimates  to  be  made  of  the  routes  of  such  roads  and  canals  as  he  might 
deem  of  national  importance  in  a  commercial  or  military  point  of  view,  or 
for  the  transportation  of  the  mail;  and  appropriated  thirty  thousand  dollars 
out  of  the  treasury  to  defray  the  expense.  This  act,  though  preliminary  in 
its  nature,  covered  the  whole  ground.  It  took  for  granted  the  complete  pow 
er  of  internal  improvement,  as  far  as  any  of  its  advocates  had  ever  contended 
for  it.  Having  passed  the  other  house,  the  bill  came  up  to  the  Senate,  and 
was  here  considered  and  debated  in  April,  1824.  The  honorable  member 
from  South  Carolina  was  a  member  of  the  Senate  at  that  time.  While  the 
bill  was  under  consideration  here,  a  motion  was  made  to  add  the  following 
proviso : — 

"  Provided,  That  nothing  herein  contained  shall  be  construed  to  affirm  or 
admit  a  power  in  Congress,  on  their  own  authority,  to  make  roads  or  canals 
within  any  of  the  states  of  the  Union." 

The  yeas  and  nays  were  taken  on  this  proviso,  and  the  honorable  member 
voted  in  the  negative.  The  proviso  failed. 

A  motion  was  then  made  to  add  this  proviso,  viz :  — 

"  Provided,  That  the  faith  of  the  United  States  is  hereby  pledged,  that  no 
money  shall  ever  be  expended  for  roads  or  canals,  except  it  shall  be  among 
the  several  states,  and  in  the  same  proportion  as  direct  taxes  are  laid  and  as 
sessed  by  the  provisions  of  the  constitution." 

The  honorable  member  voied  against  this  proviso  also,  and  it  failed. 

The  bill  was  then  put  on  its  passage,  and  the  honorable  member  voted  for 
it,  and  it  passed,  and  became  a  law. 

Now,  it  strikes  me,  sir,  that  there  is  no  maintaining  these  votes  but  upon 
the  power  of  internal  improvement,  in  its  broadest  sense.  In  truth,  these 
bills  for  surveys  and  estimates  have  always  been  considered  as  test  questions. 
They  show  who  is  for  and  who  against  internal  improvement.  This  law  itself 


191 

went  the  whole  length,  and  assumed  the  full  and  complete  power.  The  gen 
tleman's  votes  sustained  that  power,  in  every  form  in  which  the  various  propo 
sitions  to  amend  presented  it.  He  went  for  the  entire  and  unrestrained  au 
thority,  without  consulting  the  states,  and  without  agreeing  to  any  proportionate 
distribution.  And  now,  suffer  me  to  remind  you,  Mr.  President,  that  it  is  this 
very  same  power,  thus  sanctioned,  in  every  form,  by  the  gentleman's  own 
opinion,  that  is  so  plain  and  manifest  a  usurpation,  that  the  state  of  South 
Carolina  is  supposed  to  be  justified  in  refusing  submission  to  any  laws  carry 
ing  the  power  into  effect.  Truly,  sir,  is  not  this  a  little  too  hard  ?  May  we 
not  crave  some  mercy,  under  favor  and  protection  of  the  gentleman's  own 
authority  ?  Admitting  that  a  road  or  a  canal  must  be  written  down  flat 
usurpation  as  ever  was  committed,  may  we  find  no  mitigation  in  our  respect 
jbr  his  place,  and  his  vote,  as  one  that  knows  the  law  ? 

4r*The  tariff  which  South   Carolina  had  an  efficient  hand  in  establishing  in  ^ 
1816?  and  this  asserted  power  of  internal  improvement — advanced  by  her  in  * 
the  same  year,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  approved  and  sanctioned  by  her  repre 
sentatives  in  1824,  — these  two  measures  are  the  great  grounds  on  which  she^j 
is  now  thought  to  be  justified  in  breaking  up  the  Union,  if  she  sees  fit  to 
break  it  uj)/J^ 

I  may  now  safely  say,  I  think,  that  we  have  had  the  authority  of  leading 
and  distinguished  gentlemen  from  South  Carolina  in  support  of  the  doctrine 
of  internal  improvement.  I  repeat  that,  up  to  1824,  I,  for  one,  followed 
South  Carolina;  but  when  that  star  in  its  ascension  veered  off  in  an  unex 
pected  direction,  I  relied  on  its  light  no  longer.  [Here  the  Vice  President 
said,  Does  the  Chair  understand  the  gentleman  from  Massachusetts  to  say 
that  the  person.now  occupying  the  chair  of  the  Senate  has  changed  his  opin 
ions  on  the  subject  of  internal  improvements  ?]  From  nothing  ever  said  to 
me,  sir,  have  I  had  reason  to  know  of  any  change  in  the  opinions  of  the  per 
son  filling  the  chair  of  the  Senate.  If  such  change  has  taken  place,  I  regret 
it;  I  speak  generally  of  the  state  of  South  Carolina.  Individuals  we  know 
there  are  who  hold  opinions  favorable  to  the  power.  An  application  for  its 
exercise  in  behalf  of  a  public  work  in  South  Carolina  itself  is  now  pending,  I 
believe,  in  the  other  house,  presented  by  members  from  that  state. 

I  have  thus,  sir,  perhaps  not  without  some  tediousness  of  detail,  shown  that, 
if  I  am  in  error  on  the  subject  of  internal  improvements,  how  and  in  what 
company  I  fell  into  that  error.  If  I  am  wrong,  it  is  apparent  who  misled  me.  \j 

I  go  to  other  remarks  of  the  honorable  member — and  I  have  to  complain/^ 
of  an  entire  misapprehension  of  what  I  said  on  the  subject  of  the  national 
debt  —  though  I  can  hardly  perceive  how  any  one  could  misunderstand  me. 
What  I  said  was,  not  that  I  wished  to  put  off  the  payment  of  the  debt,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  that  I  had  always  voted  for  every  measure  for  its  reduction, 
as  uniformly  as  the  gentleman  himself.  He  seems  to  claim  the  exclusive 
merit  of  a  disposition  to  reduce  the  public  charge ;  I  do  not  allow  it  to  him. 
As  a  debt,  I  was,  I  am,  for  paying  it ;  because  it  is  a  charge  on  our  finances, 
and  on  the  industry  of  the  country.  But  I  observed  that  I  thought  I  per 
ceived  a  morbid  fervor  on  that  subject;  an  excessive  anxiety  to  pay  off  the 
debt;  not  so  much  because  it  is  a  debt  simply,  as  because,  while  it  lasts,  it 
furnishes  one  objection  to  disunion.  It  is  a  tie  of  common  interest  while  it 
lasts.  I  did  not  impute  such  motive  to  the  honorable  member  himself;  but 
Chat  there  is  such  a  feeling  in  existence  I  have  not  a  particle  of  doubt.  The 
most  I  said  was,  that  if  one  effect  of  the  debt  was  to  strengthen  our  Union, 
chat  effect  itself  was  not  regretted  by  me,  however  much  others  might  regret 


192 

it  The  gentleman  has  not  seen  how  to  reply  to  this  otherwise  than  by  sup 
posing  me  to  have  advanced  the  doctrine  that  a  national  debt  is  a  national 
blessing.  Others,  I  must  hope,  will  find  less  difficulty  in  understanding  me. 
I  distinctly  and  pointedly  cautioned  the  honorable  member  not  to  understand 
me  as  expressing  an  opinion  favorable  to  the  continuance  of  the  debt.  I  re 
peated  this  caution,  and  repeated  it  more  than  once  —  but  it  was  thrown 
away. 

On  yet  another  point  I  was  still  more  unaccountably  misunderstood.  The 
\  /gentleman  had  harangued  against  "  consolidation."  I  told  him,  in  reply,  that 
3/  there  was  one  kind  of  consolidation  to  which  I  was  attached,  and  that  was, 
the  CONSOLIDATION  OF  OUR  UNION  ;  and  that  this  was  precisely  that  consoli 
dation  to  which  I  feared  others  were  not  attached ;  that  such  consolidation  was 
the  very  end  of  the  constitution — that  the  leading  object,  as  they  had  in 
formed  us  themselves,  which  its  framers  had  kept  in  view.  I  turned  to  tli^k- 
communication,  and  read  their  very  words,  —  "  the  consolidation  of  the  Union," 
—  and  expressed  iny  devotion  to  this  sort  of  consolidation.  I  said  in  terms 
,  •  that  I  wished  not,  in  the  slightest  degree,  to  augment  the  powers  of  this  gov 
ernment;  that  my  object  was  to  preserve,  not  to  enlarge;  and  that,  by  consoli 
dating  the  Union,  I  understood  no  more  thin  the  strengthening  of  the  Union 
and  perpetuating  it.  Having  been  thus  ex^  licit ;  having  thus  read,  from  the 
printed  book,  the  precise  words  which  I  adoj.  ted,  as  expressing  my  own  senti 
ments,  it  passes  comprehension,  how  any  man  could  understand  me  as  con 
tending  for  an  extension  of  the  powers  of  the  government,  or  for  consolidation 
in  the  odious  sense  in  which  it  means  an  accumulation,  in  the  federal  govern 
ment,  of  the  powers  properly  belonging  to  the  states. 

I  repeat,  sir,  that,  in  adopting  the  sentiments  of  the  framers  of  the  consti 
tution,  I  read  their  language  audibly,  and  word  for  word ;  and  I  pointed  out 
the  distinction,  just  as  fully  as  I  have  now  done,  between  the  consolidation  of 
the  Union  and  that  other  obnoxious  consolidation  which  I  disclaimed  ;  and  yet 
the  honorable  gentleman  misunderstood  me.  The  gentleman  had  said  that 
he  wished  for  no  fixed  revenue  —  not  a  shilling.  If,  by  a  word,  he  could 
convert  the  Capitol  into  gold,  he  would  not  do  it.  Why  all  this  fear  of  reve 
nue  2  Why,  sir,  because,  as  the  gentleman  told  us,  it  tends  to  consolidation. 
Now,  this  can  mean  neither  more  or  less  than  that  a  common  revenue  is  a  com 
mon  interest,  and  that  all  common  interests  tend  to  hold  the  union  of  the 
states  together.  I  confess  I  like  that  tendency;  if  the  gentleman  dislikes 
it,  he  is  right  in  deprecating  a  shilling's  fixed  revenue.  So  much,  sir,  for  con 
solidation. 

As  well  as  I  recollect  the  course  of  his  remarks,  the  honorable  gentleman 
next  recurred  to  the  subject  of  the  tariff.  He  did  not  doubt  the  word  must  be 
of  unpleasant  sound  to  me,  and  proceeded,  with  an  effort  neither  new  nor  at 
tended  with  new  success,  to  involve  me  and  my  votes  in  inconsistency  and  con 
tradiction.  I  am  happy  the  honorable  gentleman  has  furnished  me  an  op 
portunity  of  a  timely  remark  or  two  on  that  subject.  I  was  glad  he  ap 
proached  it,  for  it  is  a  question  I  enter  upon  without  fear  from  any  body.  — 
The  strenuous  toil  of  the  gentleman  has  been  to  raise  an  inconsistency  between 
my  dissent  to  the  tariff,  in  1824  and  my  vote  in  1828.  It  is  labor  lost.  He 
pays  undeserved  compliment  to  my  speech  in  1824;  but  this  is  to  raise  me 
high,  that  my  fall,  as  he  would  have  it,  in  1828  may  be  the  more  signal. — 
Sir,  there  was  no  fall  at  all.  Between  the  ground  I  stood  on  in  1824  and 
that  I  took  in  1828,  there  was  not  only  no  precipice,  but  no  declivity.  It  was 
a  change  of  position,  to  meet  new  circumstances,  but  on  the  same  It  el.  A 


103 

plain  tale  explains  the  whole  matter.  In  1816,  I^had  not  acquiesced  in  the 
taring  then  supported  by  South  Carolina.  To  some  parts  of  it,  especially,  I 
felt  and  expressed  great  repugnance.'  I  held  the  same  opinions  in  1821,  at 
the  meeting  in  Faneuil  Hall,  to  which  the  gentleman  has  alluded.  I  said 
then,  and  say  now,  that,  as  an  original  question,  the  authority  of  Congress  to 
exercise  the  revenue  power,  with  direct  reference  to  the  protection  of  manufac 
tures,  is  a  questionable  authority,  far  more  questionable  in  my  judgment,  than 
the  power  of  internal  improvements.  1  must  confess,  sir,  that,  in  one  respect, 
some  impression  has  been  made  on  my  opinions  lately.  Mr.  Madison's  pub 
lication  has  put  the  power  in  a  very  strong  light.  He  has  placed  it,  I  must 
acknowledge,  upon  grounds  of  construction  and  argument  which  seem  impreg 
nable.  But  even  if  the  power  were  doubted,  on  the  face  of  the  constitution 
itself,  it  had  been  assumed  and  asserted  in  the  first  revenue  law  ever  passed 
under  the  same  constitution;  and,  on  this  ground,  as  a  matter  settled  by  con 
temporaneous  practice,  I  had  refrained  from  expressing  the  opinion  that  the  ta 
riff  laws  transcended  constitutional  limits,  as  the  gentleman  supposes.  What  I 
did  say  at  Faneuil  Hall,  as  far  as  I  now  remember,  was,  that  this  was  originally 
matter  of  doubtful  construction.  The  gentleman  himself,  I  suppose,  thinks  there 
is  no  doubt  about  it,  and  that  the  laws  are  plainly  against  the  constitution.  Mr. 
Madison's  letters,  already  referred  to,  contain,  in  my  judgment,  by  far  the  most 
able  exposition  extant  of  this  part  of  the  constitution.  He  has  satisfied  me,  so 
far  as  the  practice  of  the  government  had  left  it  an  open  question. 

With  a  great  majority  of  the  representatives  of  Massachusetts,  I  voted 
against  the  tariff  of  1824.  My  reasons  were  then  given,  and  I  will  not  now 
repeat  them.  But  noth withstanding  our  dissent,  the  great  states  of  New  York, 
Pennsylvania,  Ohio,  and  Kentucky  vient  for  the  bill,  in  almost  unbroken 
column,  and  it  passed.  Congress  and  the  president  sanctioned  it,  and  it  be 
came  the  law  of  the  land.  What,  then,  were  we  to  do?  Our  only  option 
was  either  to  fall  in  with  this  settled  course  of  public  policy,  and  to  accommo 
date  ourselves  to  it  as  well  as  we  could,  or  to  embrace  the  South  Carolina  doc 
trine,  and  talk  of  nullifying  the  statute  by  state  interference. 

The  last  alternative  did  not  suit  our  principles,  and,  of  course,  we  adopted 
the  former.  In  1827,  the  subject  came  again  before  Congress,  on  a  proposi 
tion  favorable  to  wool  and  woollens.  We  looked  upon  the  system  of  protec 
tion  as  being  fixed  and  settled.  The  law  of  1824  remained.  It  had  gone 
into  full  operation,  and  in  regard  to  some  objects  intended  by  it,  perhaps  most 
of  them  had  produced  all  its  expected  effects.  No  man  proposed  to  repeal 
it  —  no  man  attempted  to  renew  the  general  contest  on  its  principle.  But, 
owing  to  subsequent  and  unforeseen  occurrences,  the  benefit  intended  by  it  to 
wool  and  woollen  fabrics  had  not  been  realized.  Events,  not  known  here 
when  the  law  passed,  and  had  taken  place,  which  defeated  its  object  in  that 
particular  respect.  A  measure  was  accordingly  brought  forward  to  meat  this 
precise  .deficiency,  to  remedy  this  particular  defect.  It  was  limited  to  wool 
and  woollens.  Was  ever  any  thing  more  reasonable  ?  If  the  policy  of  the 
tariff  laws  had  become  established  in  principle  as  the  permanent  policy  of  the 
government,  should  they  not  be  revised  and  amended,  and  made  equal,  like 
other  laws,  as  exigencies  should  arise,  or  justice  require  ?  Because  we  had 
doubted  about  adopting  the  system,  were  we  to  refuse  to  cure  its  manifest 
defe.cts  after  it  became  adopted,  and  when  no  one  attempted  its  repeal  ?  And 
this,  sir,  is  the  inconsistency  so  much  bruited.  I  had  voted  against  the  tariff 
of  1824 — but  it  passed;  and  in  1827  and  1828,  I  voted  to  amend  it  in  a 
point  essential  to  the  interest  of  my  constituents  Where  is  the  inconsistency  ? 

Could  I  do  otherwise  ?    ,  0 
lo 


194 

Sir,  does  political  consistency  consist  in  always  giving   negative  votes? 
Does  it  require  of  a  publicinan  to  refuse  to  concur  in  amending  Jaws  because 
they  passed  against  his  consent?     Having  voted  against  the  tariff  originally, 
does  consistency  demand  that  I  should  do  all  in  my  power  to  maintain  an 
unequal  tariff,  burdensome  to  my  own  constituents,  in  many  respects, —  favor 
able  in  none?     To  consistency  of  that  sort  I  lay  no  claim;  and  there  is 
/another  sort  to  which  I  lay  as  little  —  and  that  is,  a  kind  of  consistency  by 
/  which  persons  feel  themselves  as  much  bound  to  oppose  a  proposition  after  it 
'      has  become  the  law  of  the  land  as  before. 

The  bill  of  1827,  limited,  as  I  have  said,  to  the  single  object  in  which  the 
tariff  of  18*24  had  manifestly  failed  in  its  effect,  passed  the  House  of  Repre 
sentatives,  but  was  lost  here.  We-  had  then  the  act  of  1828.  I  need  not 
recur  to  the  history  of  a  measure  so  recent.  Its  enemies  spiced  it  with  what 
soever  they  thought  would  render  it  distasteful;  its  friends  took  it,  drugged  as 
it  was.  Vast  amounts  of  property,  many  millions,  had  been  invested  in 
manufactures,  under  the  inducements  of  the  act  of  1 824.  Events  called 
loudly,  I  thought  for  further  regulations  to  secure  the  degree  of  protection  in 
tended  by  that  act.  I  was  disposed  to  vote  for  such  regulations,  and  desired 
nothing  more ;  but  certainly  was  not  to  be  bantered  out  of  my  purpose  by  a 
threatened  augmentation  of  duty  on  molasses,  put  into  the  bill  for  the  avowed 
purpose  of  making  it  obnoxious.  The  vote  may  have  been  right  or  wrong, 
wise  or  unwise;  but  it  is  little  less  than  absurd  to  allege  against  it  an  incon 
sistency  with  opposition  to  the  former  law. 

Sir,  as  to  the  general  subject  of  the  tariff,  I  have  little  now  to  say. 
Another  opportunity  may  be  presented.  I  remarked,  the  other  day,  that  this 
policy  did  not  begin  with  us  in  New  England;  and  yet,  sir,  New  England  is 
charged  with  vehemence  as  being  favorable,  or  charged  with  equal  vehemence 
as  being  unfavorable,  to  the  tariff'  policy,  just  as  best  suits  the  time,  place,  and 
occasion  for  making  some  charge  against  her.  The  credulity  of  the  public 
has  been  put  to  its  extreme  capacity  of  false  impression  relative  to  her  conduct 
in  this  particular.  Through  all  the  south,  during  the  late  contest,  it  was  New 
England  policy,  and  a  New  England  administration,  that  was  inflicting  the 
country  with  a  tariff  policy  beyond  all  endurance,  while  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Alleghany,  even  the  act  of  1828  itself — the  very  sublimated  essence  of 
oppression,  according  to  southern  opinions  —  was  pronounced  to  be  one  of 
those  blessings  for  which  the  west  was  indebted  to  the  "  generous  south." 

With  large  investments  in  manufacturing  establishments,  and  various  inter 
ests  connected  with  and  dependent  on  them,  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  New 
England,  any  more  than  other  portions  of  the  country,  will  now  consent  to 
any  measures  destructive  or  highly  dangerous.  The  duty  of  the  government, 
at  the  present  moment,  would  seem  to  be  to  preserve,  not  to  destroy;  to  main 
tain  the  position  which  it  has  assumed ;  and  for  one,  I  shall  feel  it  an  indis 
pensable  obligation  to  hold  it  steady,  as  far  as  in  my  power,  to  that  degree 
.of  protection  which  it  has  undertaken  to  bestow.  No  more  of  the  tariff. 

Professing  to  be  provoked  by  what  he  chose  to  consider  a  charge  luadu  1>}T 
Hie  against  South  Carolina,  the  honorable  member,  Mr.  President,  has  taken 
up  a  new  crusade  against  New  England.  Leaving  altogether  the  subject  of 
the  public  lands,  in  which  his  success,  perhaps,  had  been  neither  distinguished 
nor  satisfactory,  and  letting  go,  also,  of  the  topic  of  the  tariff,  he  sallied  forth 
in  a  general  assault  on  the  opinions,  politics,  and  parties  of  New  England,  as 
they  have  been  exhibited  in  the  last  thirty  years.  This  is  natural.  The^nar- 


195 

yw  jpoliey." -of  the  puhlicjanda^had  proy.ec!  a  legal  settlement  in  South 
VCarolina,  and  was  not  to  be  removed.  The  "accursed  policy "  of  the  tang 
also,  had_established  the  fact  of  its  birth  and  pirmtti^n  in  thft  same  state.^ 
No  wonder,  therefore,  the  gentleman  wished  to  carry  the  war,  as  he  expressed 
it,  into  the  enemy's  country,  Prudently  willing  to  quit  these  subjects,  he  was 
doubtless  desirous  of  fastening  others,  which  could  not  be  transferred  south  of 
Mason  and  Dixon's  line.  The  politics  of  New  England  became  his  theme ; 
and  it  was  in  this  part  of  his  speech,  I  think,  that  he  menaced  me  with  such 
sore  discomfiture,  », 

Discomfiture !  wny,  sir,  when  he  attacks  any  thing  which  I  maintain,  and 
overthrows  it;  when  he  turns  the  right  or  left  of  any  position  which  I  take 
up;  when  he  drives  me  from  any  ground  I  choose  to  occupy,  he  may  then 
talk  of  discomfiture,  but  not  till  that  distant  day.  What  has  he  done  ?  Has 
he  maintained  his  own  charges  ?  Has  he  proved  what  he  alleged  ?  Has  he 
sustained  himself  in  his  attack  on  the  government,  and  on  the  history  of  the 
north,  in  the  matter  of  the  public  lands  ?  Has  he  disproved  a  fact,  refuted  a 
proposition,  weakened  an  argument  maintained  by  me?  Has  he  come  within 
beat  of  drum  of  any  position  of  mine?  0,  no;  but  he  has  "carried  the 
war  into  the  enemy's  country ! "  Carried  the  war  into  the  enemy's  country ! 
Yes,  sir,  and  what  sort  of  a  war  has  he  made  of  it  ?  Why,  sir,  he  has  stretched 
a  dragnet  over  the  whole  surface  of  perished  pamphlets,  indiscreet  sermons, 
frothy  paragraphs,  and  fuming  popular  addresses ;  over  whatever  tjie  pulpit  in 
its  moments  of  alarm,  the  press  in  its  heats,  and  parties  in  their  extravagances, 
have  severally  thrown  off,  in  times  of  general  excitement  and  violence.  He 
has  thus  swept  together  a  mass  of  such  things,  as,  but  that  they  are  now  old, 
the  public  health  would  have  required  him  rather  to  leave  in  their  state  of 
dispersion. 

For  a  good  long  hour  or  two,  we  had  the  unbroken  pleasure  of  listening  to 
the  honorable  member,  while  he  recited,  with  his  usual  grace  and  spirit,  and  with 
evident  high  gusto,  speeches,  pamphlets,  addresses,  and  all  that  et  ceteras  of  the 
political  press,  such  as  warm  heads  produce  in  warm  times,  and  such  as  it 
would  be  "  discomfiture  "  indeed  for  any  one,  whose  taste  did  not  delight  in 
that  sort  of  reading,  to  be  obliged  to  peruse.  This  is  his  war.  This  is  to 
carry  the  war  into  the  enemy's  country.  It  is  in  an  invasion  of  this  sort  that 
he  flatters  himself  with  the  expectation  of  gaining  laurels  fit  to  adorn  a 
senator's  brow. 

Mr.  President,  I  shall  not,  it  will,  I  trust,  not  be  expected  that  I  should, 
either  now  or  at  any  time,  separate  this  farrago  into  parts,  and  answer  and  ex 
amine  its  components.  I  shall  hardly  bestow  upon  it  all  a  general  remark  or 
two.  In  the  run  of  forty  years,  sir,  under  this  constitution,  we  have  experienced 
sundry  succes  ive  violent  party  contests.  Party  arose,  indeed,  with  the  con 
stitution  itself,  and  in  some  form  or  other  has  attended  through  the  greater 
part  of  its  history. 

Whether  any  other  constitution  than  the  old  articles  of  confederation  was 
desirable,  was  itself,  a  question  on  which  parties  divided ;  if  a  new  constitution 
was  framed,  what  powers  should  be  given  to  it  was  another  question ;  and 
when  it  had  been  formed,  what  was,  in  fact,  the  just  extent  of  the  powers 
actually  conferred,  was  a  third.  Parties,  as  we  know,  existed  under  the  first 
administration,  as  distinctly  marked  as  those  which  manifested  themselves  at 
any  subsequent  period. 

The  contest  immediately  preceding  the  political  change  in  1801,  and  that, 


196 

again,  which  existed  at  the  commencement  of  the  late  war,  are  other  instances 
of  party  excitement,  of  something  more  than  usual  strength  and  intensity. 
In  all  these  conflicts  there  was,  no  doubt,  much  of  violence  on  both  and  all 
sides.  It  would  be  impossible,  if  one  had  a  fancy  for  such  employment,  to 
adjust  the  relative  quantum  of  violence  between  these  two  contending  Dailies. 
There  was  enough  in  each,  as  must  always  be  expected  in  popular  governments. 
With  a  great  deal  of  proper  and  decorous  discussion  there  was  mingled  a  great 
deal,  also,  of  declamation,  virulence,  crimination,  and  abuse. 

In  regard  to  any  party,  probably,  at  one  of  the  leading  epochs  in  the  history 
of  parties,  enough  may  he  found  to  make  out  another  equally  inflamed  exhi 
bition  as  that  which  the  honorable  member  has  edified  us.  For  myself,  sir, 
I  shall  not  rake  among  the  rubbish  of  by-gone  times  to  see  what  I  can  find,  or 
whether  I  cannot  find  something  by  which  I  can  fix  a  blot  an  the  escutcheon 
of  any  state,  any  party,  or  any  part  of  the  country.  General  Washington's 
administration  was  steadily  and  zealously  maintained,  as  we  all  know,  by  New 
England.  It  was  violently  opposed  elsewhere.  We  know  in  what  quarter  he 
had  the  most  earnest,  constant,  and  persevering  support,  in  all  his  great  and 
leading  measures.  We  know  where  his  private  and  personal  character  was 
held  in  the  highest  degree  of  attachment  and  veneration  ;  and  we  know,  too, 
where  his  measures  were  opposed,  his  services  slighted,  and  his  character 
villified. 

We  knctfv,  or  we  might  know,  if  we  turn  to  the  journals,  who  expressed 
respect^  gratitude,  and  regret,  when  he  retired  from  the  chief  magistracy  ;  and 
who  refused  to  express  either  respect,  gratitude  or  regret.  I  shall  not  open 
those  journals.  Publications  more  abusive  or  scurrilous  never  saw  the  light 
than  were  sent  forth  against  Washington,  and  all  his  leading  measures,  from 
presses  south  of  New  England  ;  but  I  shall  not  look  them  up.  I  employ  no 
scavengers  —  no  one  is  in  attendance  on  me,  tendering  such  means  of  retalia 
tion  ;  and  if  there  were,  with  an  ass's  load  of  them,  with  a  bulk  as  huge  as 
that  which  the  gentleman  himself  has  produced,  I  would  not  touch  one  of 
them.  I  see  enough  of  the  violence  of  our  own  times  to  be  no  way  anxious 
to  rescue  from  forgetfulness  the  extravagances  of  times  past.  Besides,  what  is 
all  this  to  the  present  purpose  ?  It  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  public  lands, 
in  regard  to  which  the  attack  was  begun  ;  and  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  those 
sentiments  and  opinions,  which  I  have  thought  tend  to  disunion,  and  all  of 
which  the  honorable  member  seems  to  have  adopted  himself,  and  undertaken 
to  defend.  New  England  has,  at  times,  —  so  argues  the  gentleman,  —  held 
opinions  as  dangerous  as  those  which  he  now  holds.  Be  -it  so.  But  why, 
therefore,  does  he  abuse  New  England  ?  If  he  finds  himself  countenanced  by 
acts  of  hers,  how  is  it  that,  while  he  relies  on  these  acts,  he  covers,  or  seeks  to 
cover,  their  authors  with  reproach  ? 

But,  sir,  if,  in  the  course  of  forty  years,  there  have  been  undue  effervescences 
of  party  in  New  England,  has  the  same  thing  happened  no  where  else  ? 
Party  animosity  aud  party  outrage,  not  in  New  England,  but  elsewhere, 
denounced  President  Washington,  not  only  as  a  federalist,  but  as  a  tory,  a 
British  agent,  a  man  who,  in  his  high  office,  sanctioned  corruption.  But  does 
the  honorable  member  suppose  that,  if  I  had  a  tender  here,  who  should  put 
«uch  an  eftusion  of  wickedness  and  folly  in  my  hand,  that  I  would  stand  up 
and  read  it  against  the  south  ?  Parties  ran  into  great  heats  again,  in  1799. 
What  was  said,  sir,  or  rather  what  was  not  said,  in  those  years,  against  John 
Adams,  one  of  the  signers  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  its  admit 
ted  ablest  defender  on  the  floor  of  Congress  ?  If  the  gentleman  wants  to 


197 

increase  his  stores  of  party  abuse  and  frothy  violence,  if  he  Las  a  determined 
proclivity  to  such  pursuits,  there  are  treasures  of  that  sort  south  of  the  Potomac, 
much  to  his  taste,  yet  untouched.  I  shall  not  touch  them. 

The  parties  which  divided  the  country,  at  the  commencement  of  the  late 
war,  were  violent.  But,  then,  there  was  violence  on  both  sides,  and  violence  in. 
every  state.  Minorities  and  majorities  were  equally  violent.  There  was  no 
more  violence  against  the  war  in  New  England  than  in  other  states;  nor  any 
more  appearance  of  violence,  except  that,  owing  to  a  dense  population,  greater 
facility  for  assembling,  and  more  presses,  there  may  have  been  more,  in  quanti 
ty,  spoken  and  printed  there  than  in  some  other  places.  In  the  article  of 
sermons,  too,  New  England  is  somewhat  more  abundant  than  South  Carolina; 
and  for  that  reason,  the  chance  of  finding  here  and  there  an  exceptionable  one 
may  be  greater.  I  hope  too,  there  are  more  good  ones.  Opposition  may 
have  been  more  formidable  in  New  England,  as  it  embraced  a  larger  portion 
of  the  whole  population ;  but  it  was  no  more  unrestrained  in  its  principle,  or 
violent  in  manner.  The  minorities  dealt  quite  as  harshly  with  their  own  state 
governments  as  the  majorities  dealt  with  the  administration  here.  There  were 
presses  on  both  sides,  popular  meetings  on  both  sides,  ay,  and  pulpits  on  both 
sides,  also.  The  gentleman's  purveyors  have  only  catered  for  him  among  the 
productions  of  one  side.  I  certainly  shall  not  supply  the  deficiency  by  furnish 
ing  samples  of  the  other.  I  leave  to  him,  and  to  them,  the  whole  concern. 

It  is  enough  for  me  to  say,  that  if,  in  any  part  of  this,  their  grateful  occupa 
tion  —  if  in  all  their  researches  —  they  find  any  thing  in  the  history  of  Massa 
chusetts,  or  New  England,  or  in  the  proceedings  of  any  legislative  or  other 
public  body,  disloyal  to  the  Union,  speaking  slightly  of  its  value,  proposing  to 
break  it  up,  or  recommending  non-intercourse  with  neighboring  states,  on 
account  of  difference  of  political  opinion,  then,  sir,  I  give  them  all  up  to  the 
honorable  gentleman's  unrestrained  rebuke ;  expecting,  however,  that  he  will 
extend  his  buffetings,  in  like  manner,  to  all  similar  proceedings,  wherever  else 
found. 

"1  e  gentleman,  sir,  has  spoken  at  large  of  former  parties,  now  no  longer  in 
,  by  their  received  appellations,  and  has  undertaken  to  instruct  us,  not 
n  the  knowledge  of  their  principles,  but  of  their  respective  pedigrees  ako. 
as  ascended  to  their  origin,  and  run  out  their  genealogies.  With  most 
plary  modesty,  he  speaks  of  the  party  to  which  he  professes  to  have 
himself,  as  the  true,  pure,  the  only  honest,  patriotic  party,  derived  by 
regular  descent,  from  father  to  son,  from  the  time  of  the  virtuous  Romans  ! 
Spreading  before  us  the  family  tree  of  political  parties,  he  takes  especial  care^. 
to  show  himself  snugly  perched  on  a  popular  bough !  He  is  wakeful  to-tfte^ 
expediency  of  ad  opting  such  rules  of  descent,  for  political  parties,  as  shall  bring 
him  in,  in  exclusion  of  others,  as  an  heir  to  the  inheritance  of  all  public  virtue, 
and  all  true  political  principles.  His  doxy  is  always  orthodoxy.  Heterodoxy 
is  confined  to  his  opponents.  He  spoke,  sir,  of  the  federalists,  and  I  thought  I 
saw  some  eyes  begin  to  open  and  stare  a  little,  when  he  ventured  on  that 
ground.  I  expected  he  would  draw  his  sketches  rather  lightly,  when  he 
looked  on  the  circle  round  him,  and  especially  if  he  should  cast  his  thoughts 
to  the  high  places  out  of  the  Senate.  Nevertheless,  he  went  back  to  Rome, 
ad  annum  urbiscondita,  and  found  the  fathers  of  the  federalists  in  the  prime 
val  aristocrats  of  that  renowned  empire !  He  traced  the  flow  of  federal  blood 
down  through  successive  ages  and  centuries,  till  he  got  into  the  veins  of  the 
American  tories,  (of  whom,  by  the  way,  there  were  twenty  in  the  Carolinas 
for  one  in  Massachusetts.)  From  the  tories,  he  followed  it  to  the  federalists  j 


^  ^    ifte g 

fe^ 

PTC  has  a 

^exemplar 

belonged 


198 

and  as  the  federal  party  was  broken  up,  and  there  was  no  possibility  of  trans 
mitting  it  farther  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  he  seems  to  have  discovered  that 
it  has  gone  orlj  collaterally,  though  against  all  the  canons  of  descent,  into  the 
ultras  of  France,  and  finally  became  extinguished,  like  exploded  gas,  among 
the  adherents  of  Don  Miguel. 

This,  sir,  is  an  abstract  of  the  gentleman's  history  of  federalism.  I  am  not 
about  to  controvert  it.  It  is  not,  at  present,  worth  the  pains  of  refutation, 
because,  sir,  if  at  this  day  one  feels  the  sin  of  federalism  lying  heavily  on  his 
conscience,  he  can  easily  obtain  remission.  He  may  even  have  an  indulgence, 
if  he  is  desirous  of  repeating  the  transgression.  It  is  an  affair  of  no  difficulty 
to  get  into  this  same  right  line  of  patriotic  descent.  A  man,  nowadays,  is  at 
liberty  to  choose  his  political  parentage.  He  may  elect  his  own  father. 
Federalist  or  not,  he  may,  if  he  choose,  claim  to  belong  to  the  favored  stock, 
and  his  claim  will  be  allowed.  He  may  carry  back  his  pretensions  just  as  far 
as  the  honorable  gentleman  himself;  nay,  he  may  make  himself  out  the  hon 
orable  gentleman's  cousin,  and  prove  satisfactorily  that  he  is  descended  from 
the  same  political  great-grandfather.  All  this  is  allowable.  We  all  know  a 
process,  sir,  by  which  the  whole  Essex  Junto  could,  in  one  hour,  be  all  washed 
white  from  their  ancient  federalism,  and  come  out  every  one  of  them,  an  orig 
inal  democrat,  dyed  in  the  wool !  Some  of  them  have  actually  undergone  the 
operation,  and  they  say  it  is  quite  easy.  The  only  inconvenience  it  occasions, 
as  they  tell  us,  is  a  slight  tendency  of  the  blood  to  the  face,  a  soft  suffusion, 
which,  however,  is  very  transient,  since  nothing  is  said  calculated  to  deepen  the 
red  on  the  cheek,  but  a  prudent  silence  observed  in  regard  to  all  the  past. 
Indeed,  sir,  some  smiles  of  approbation  have  been  bestowed,  and  some  crumbs 
of  comfort  have  fallen,  not  a  thousand  miles  from  the  door  of  the  Hartford 
Convention  itself.  And  if  the  author  of  the  ordinance  of  1787  possessed  the 
other  requisite  qualifications,  there  is  no  knowing,  notwithstanding  his  federal 
ism,  to  what  heights  of  favor  he  might  not  yet  attain. 

Mr.  President,  in  carrying  his  warfare,  such  as  it  was,  into  New  England, 
the  honorable  gentleman  all  along  professes  to  be  acting  on  the  defensive, 
desires  to  consider  me  as  having  assailed  South  Carolina,  and  insists  th 
comes  forth  only  as  her  champion,  and  in  her  defence.  Sir,  I  do  not  a 
that  I  made  any  attack  whatever  on  South  Carolina.  Nothing  like  it. 
honorable  member,  in  his  first  speech,  expressed  opinions,  in  regard  to  revenue, 
and  some  other  topics,  which  I  heard  both  with  pain  and  surprise.  I  told  the 
gentleman  that  I  was  aware  that  such  sentiments  were  entertained  OUT  of  the 
government,  but  had  not  expected  to  find  them  advanced  in  it;  that  I  knew 
there  were  persons  in  the  south  who  speak  of  our  Union  with  indifference,  or 
doubt,  taking  pains  to  magnify  its  evils,  and  to  say  nothing  of  its  benefits ; 
that  the  honorable  member  himself,  I  was  sure,  could  never  be  one  of  these; 
and  I  regretted  the  expression  of  such  opinions  as  he  had  avowed,  because  I 
thought  their  obvious  tendency  was  to  encourage  feelings  of  disrespect  to  the 
Union,  and  to  weaken  its  connection.  This,  sir,  is  the  sum  and  substance  of  all 
I  said  on  the  subject.  And  this  constitutes  the  attack  which  called  on  the 
chivalry  of  the  gentleman,  in  his  opinion,  to  harry  us  with  such  a  forage  among 
the  party  pamphlets  and  party  proceedings  of  Massachusetts.  If  he  means 
that  I  spoke  with  dissatisfaction  or  disrespect  of  the  ebullitions  of  individuals 
in  South  Carolina,  it  is  true.  But,  if  he  means  that  I  had  assailed  the  char 
acter  of  the  state,  her  honor,  or  patriotism,  that  I  had  reflected  on  her  history 
or  her  conduct,  he  had  not  the  slightest  ground  for  any  such  assumption.  I 
did  not  even  refer,  I  think,  in  my  observations,  to  any  collection  of  individuals. 


199 

I  said  nothing  of  the  recent  conventions.  I  spoke  in  the  most  guarded  and 
careful  manner,  and  only  expressed  my  regret  for  the  publication  of  opinions 
which  I  presumed  the  honorable  member  disapproved  as  much  as  myself.  In 
this,  it  seems,  I  was  mistaken. 

I  do  not  remember  that  the  gentleman  has  disclaimed  any  sentiment,  or 
any  opinion,  of  a  supposed  anti-Union  tendency,  which  on  all  or  any  of  the 
recent  occasions  has  been  expressed.  The  whole  drift  of  his  speech  has  been 
rather  to  prove,  that,  in  divers  times  and  manners,  sentiments  equally  liable  to 
objection  have  been  promulgated  in  New  England.  And  one  would  suppose 
that  his  object,  in  this  reference  to  Massachusetts,  was  to  find  a  precedent  to 
justify  proceedings  in  the  south,  were  it  not  for  the  reproach  and  contumely 
with  which  he  labors,  all  along,  to  load  his  precedents. 

By  way  of  defending  South  Carolina  from  what  he  chooses  to  think  an 
attack  on  her,  he  first  quotes  the  example  of  Massachusetts,  and  then  denoun 
ces  that  example,  in  good  set  terms.  This  twofold  purpose,  not  very  consistent 
with  itself,  one  would  think,  was  exhibited  more  than  once  in  the  course  of 
his  speech.  He  referred,  for  instance,  to  the  Hartford  Convention.  Did  he 
do  this  for  authority,  or  for  a  topic  of  reproach  ?  Apparently  for  both ;  for  ho 
told  us  that  he  should  find  no  fault  with  the  mere  fact  of  holding  such  a 
convention,  and  considering  and  discussing  such  questions  as  he  supposes  were 
then  and  there  discussed ;  but  what  rendered  it  obnoxious  was  the  time  it  was 
holden,  and  the  circumstances  of  the  country  then  existing.  We  were  in  a 
war,  he  said,  and  the  country  needed  all  our  aid;  the  hand  of  government 
required  to  be  strengthened,  not  weakened;  and  patriotism  should  liava 
postponed  such  proceedings  to  another  day.  The  thing  itself,  then,  is  a  pre 
cedent  :  the  time  and  manner  of  it,  only,  subject  of  censure. 

Now,  sir,  I  go  much  farther,  on  this  point,  than  the  honorable  member- 
Supposing,  as  the  gentleman  seems  to,  that  the  Hartford  Convention  assem 
bled  for  any  such  purpose  as  breaking  up  the  Union,  because  they  thought 
unconstitutional  laws  had  been  passed,  or  to  concert  on  that  subject,  or  tcj 
calculate  the  value  of  the  Union ;  supposing  this  to  be  their  purpose,  or  any  f 
part  of  it,  then  I  say  the  meeting  itself  was  disloyal,  and  obnoxious  to  censure,  J 
whether  held  in  time  of  peace,  or  time  of  war,  or  under  whatever  circumstan 
ces.  The  material  matter  is  the  object.  Is  dissolution  the  object  ?  If  it  be, 
external  circumstances  may  make  it  a  more  or  less  aggravated  case,  but  cannot, 
affect  the  principle.  I  do  not  hold,  therefore,  that  the  Hartford  Convention  A 
was  pardonable,  even  to  the  extent  of  the  gentleman's  admission,  if  its  objects 
were  really  such  as  have  been  imputed  to  it.  Sir,  there  never  was  a  time, 
.  under  any  degree  of  excitement,  in  which  the  Hartford  Convention,  or  any 
other  convention,  could  maintain  itself  one  moment  in  New  England,  if  assem 
bled  for  any  such  purpose  as  the  gentleman  says  would  have  been  an  allowable 
purpose.  To  hold  conventions  to  decide  questions  of  constitutional  law !  to 
try  the  validity  of  statutes,  by  votes  in  a  convention!  Sir,  the  Hartford  Con 
vention,  I  presume,  would  not  desire  that  the  honorable  gentleman  should  be 
their  defender  or  advocate,  if  he  puts  their  case  upon  such  untenable  and 
extravagant  grounds. 

Then,  sir,  the  gentleman  has  no  fault  to  find  with  these  recently-promulga 
ted  South  Carolina  opinions.     And,  certainly,  he  need  have  none;  for  his  own 
sentiments,  as  now  advanced,  and  advanced  on  reflection,  as  far  as  I  have  been 
.  able  to  comprehend  them,  go  the  full  length  of  all  these  opinions.     I  propose, 
sir,  to  say  something  on  these,  and  to  consider  how  far  they  are  just  and  con- 


200 

stitutional.  Before  doing  that>  however,  let  me  observe,  that  the  eulogium 
pronounced  on  the  character  of  the  state  of  South  Carolina,  by  the  honora 
ble  gentleman,  for  her  revolutionary  and  other  merits,  meets  my  hearty  con 
currence.  I  shall  not  acknowledge  that  tlie  honorable  member  goes  before 
me  in  regard  for  whatever  of  distinguished  talent  or  distinguished  character 
South  Carolina  has  produced.  I  claim  part  of  the  honor,  I  partake  in  the 
pride,  of  her  great  names.  I  claim  them  for  countrymen,  one  and  all.  The 
Lauren-ses,  the  Rutledges,  the  Pinckneys,  the  Sumpters,  the  Marions  —  Ameri 
cans  all  —  whose  fame  is  no  more  to  be  hemmed  in  by  state  lilies  than  their 
talents  and  their  patriotism  were  capable  of  being  circumscribed  within  the 
same  narrow  limits.  In  their  day  and  generation,  they  served  and  honored 
the  country,  and  the  whole  country ;  and  their  renown  is  of  the  treasures  of 
the  whole  country.  Him  whose  honored  name  the  gentleman  himself  bears 
- — does  he  suppose  me  less  capable  of  gratitude  for  his  patriotism,  or  sympa 
thy  for  his  sufferings,  than  if  his  eyes  had  first  opened  upon  the  light  in  Mas 
sachusetts  instead  of  South  Carolina  ?  Sir,  does  he  suppose  it  is  in  his  power 
to  exhibit  a  Carolina  name  so  bright  as  to  produce  envy  in  my  bosom  ?  2sTo, 
sir,  increased  gratification  and  delight,  rather. 

Sir,  I  thank  God  that  if  I  am  gifted  with  little  of  the  spirit  which  is  said 
to  be  able  to  raise  mortals  to  the  skies,  I  have  yet  none,  as  1  trust^  of  that  other 
spirit , which  would  drag  angels  down.  When  I  shall  be  found,  sir,  in  my 
place  here  in  the  Senate,  or  elsewhere,  to  sneer  at  public  merit,  because  it  hap 
pened  to  spring  up  beyond  the  little  limits  of  my  own  state,  or  neighborhood ; 
when  I  refuse,  for  any  such  cause,  or  for  any  cause,  the  homage  due  to  Ameri 
can  talent,  to  elevated  patriotism,  to  sincere  devotion  to  liberty  and  the  coun 
try;  or  if  I  see  an  uncommon  endowment  of  Heaven,  if  I  see  extraordinary 
capacity  and  virtue  in  any  son  of  the  south,  and  if,  moved  by  local  prejudice, 
or  gangrened  by  state  jealousy,  I  get  up  here  to  abate  the  tithe  of  a  hair  from 
his  just  character  and  just  fame, —  may  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my 
mouth !  Sir,  let  me  recur  to  pleasing  recollections;  let  me  indulge  in  refresh 
ing  remembrance  of  the  past;  let  me  remind  you  that  in  early  times  no  states 
cherished  greater  harmony,  both  of  principle  and  feeling,  than  Massachusetts 
and  South  Carolina.  Would  to  God  that  harmony  might  again  return. 
Shoulder  to  shoulder  they  went  through  the  revolution ;  hand  in  hand  they 
stood  round  the  administration  of  Washington,  and  felt  his  own  great  arm 
lean  on  them  for  support.  Unkind  feeling,  if  it  exist,  alienation,  and  distrust 
are  the  growth,  unnatural  to  such  soils,  of  false  principles  since  sown.  They 
are  weeds,  the  seeds  of  which  that  same  great  arm  never  scattered. 

Mr.  President,  I  shall  enter  on  no  encomium  upon  Massachusetts  —  she 
needs  nor>e.  There  she  is  —  behold  her,  and  judge  for  yourselves.  There  is 
her  history — the  world  knows  it  by  heart.  The  past,  at  least,  is  secure. 
There  is  Boston,  and  Concord,  and  Lexington,  and  Bunker  Hill;  and  there 
they  will  remain  forever.  The  bones  of  her  sons,  fallen  in  the  great  struggle 
for  independence,  now  lie  mingled  with  the  soil  of  every  state  from  |New  Eng 
land  to  Georgia ;  and  there  they  will  lie  forever.  And,  sir,  where;/  American 
liberty  raised  its  first  voice,  and  where  its  youth  was  nurtured  anAsustained, 
there  it  still  lives,  in  the  strength  of  its  manhood,  and  full  of  it^6rig\ial  spirit. 
If  discord  and  disunion  shall  wound  it ;  if  folly  and  maJfcess,  if  uneasiness 
under  salutary  and  necessary  restraint,  shall  succeed  to  separate  it  from  that 
Union  by  which  alone  its  existence  is  made  sure,  —  it  will  stand,  in  the  end, 
by  the  side  of  that  cradle  in  which  its  infancy  was  rocked;  it  will  stretch 
forth  its  arm,  with  whatever  vigor  it  may  still  retain,  over  the  friends  who 


201 

gather  around  it ;  and  it  will  fall  at  last,  if  fall  it  must>  amidst  the  proudest  | 

monuments    of    its  glory,    and  on  the  very  spot  of  its  origin. \ 

V[ There  yet  remains  to  be  pertormeci,  Mr.  President,  by  fir  the  most  grave 
and  important  duty ;  which  I  i'eel  to  be  devolved  on  me  by  this  occasion.  It 
is  to  state,  and  to  defend,  what  I  conceive  to  be  the  true  principles  of  the  con 
stitution  under  which  we  are  here  assembled.  I  might  well  have  desired 
that  so  weighty  a  task  should  have  fallen  into  other  and  abler  hands.  I  could 
have  wished  that  it  should  have  been  executed  by  those  whose  character  and 
experience  give  weight  and  influence  to  their  opinions,  such  as  cannot  possibly 
belong  to  mine.  But,  sir,  I  have  met  the  occasion,  not  sought  it;  and  I  shall 
proceed  to  state  my  own  sentiments,  without  challenging  for  them  any  parti 
cular  regard,  with  studied  plainness  and  as  much  precision  as  possible. 

I  understand  the  honorable  gentle  man1  from  South  Carolina  to  maintain 
that  it  is  a  right  of  the  state  legislatures  to  interfere,  whenever,  in  their  judg 
ment,  this  government  transcends  its  constitutional  limits,  and  to  arrest  the 
operation  of  its  laws. 

I  understand  him  to  maintain  this  right  as  a  right  existing  under  the  con 
stitution,  not  as  a  right  to  overthrow  it,  on  the  ground  of  extreme  necessity, 
such  as  would  justify  violent  revolution. 

I  understand  him  to  maintain  an  authority,  on  the  part  of  the  states,  thus 
to  interfere,  for  the  purpose  of  correcting  the  exercise  of  power  by  the  general 
government,  of  checking  it,  and  of  compelling  it  to  conform  to  their  opinion 
of  the  extent  of  its  power. 

I  understand  him  to  maintain  that  the  ultimate  power  of  judging  of  th  ± 
constitutional  extent  of  its  own  authority  is  not  lodged  exclusively  in  the 
general  government  or  any  branch  of  it;  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  the 
states  may  lawfully  decide  for  themselves,  and  each  state  for  itself, 
whether,  in  a  given  case,  the  act  of  the  general  government  transcends  its 
power. 

I  undertand  him  to  insist  that,  if  the  exigency  of  the  case,  in  the  opinion 
of  any  state  government,  require  it,  such  state  government  may,  by  its  own 
sovereign  authority,  annul  an  act  of  the  general  government  which  it  deems 
plainly  and  palpably  unconstitutional. 

This  is  the  sum  of  what  I  understand  from  him  to  be  the  South  Carolina 
doctrine.  I  propose  to  consider  it,  and  to  compare  it  with  the  constitution. 
Allow  me  to  say,  as  a  preliminary  remark,  that  I  call  this  the  South  Carolina 
doctrine,  only  because  the  gentleman  himself  has  so  denominated  it.  I  do 
not  feel  at  liberty  to  say  that  South  Carolina,  as  a  state,  has  ever  advanced 
these  sentiments.  I  hope  she  has  not,  and  never  may.  That  a  great  majority 
of  her  people  are  opposed  to  the  tariff  laws  is  doubtless  true.  That  a  majority 
ty,  somewhat  less  than  that  just  mentioned,  conscientiously  believe  these  laws 
unconstitutional,  may  probably  be  also  true.  But  that  any  majority  holds  to 
the  right  of  direct  state  interference,  at  state  discretion,  the  right  of  nullify 
ing  acts  of  Congress  by  acts  of  state  legislation,  is  more  than  I  know,  an  1 
what  I  shall  be  slow  to  believe. 

That  there  are  individuals,  besides  the  honorable  gentleman,  who  do  main 
tain  these  opinions,  is  quite  certain.  I  recollect  the  recent  expression  of  a 
sentiment  which  circumstances  attending  its  utterance  and  publication 
justify  us  in  supposing  was  not  unpremeditated  —  "  The  sovereignty  of  the 
state;  never  to  be  controlled,  construed,  or  decided  on.  but  bv  her  own  feelings 
of  honorable  justice." 

[Mr.  HAYNE  here  rose,  and  said,  that,  for  the  purpose  of  being  clearly  ua- 


202 

derstood,  he  would  state  that  his  proposition  was  in  the  words  of  the  Virginia 
resolution,  as  follows : — 

"  That  this  Assembly  doth  explicitly  and  peremptorily  declare,  that  it  views 
the  powers  of  the  federal  government,  as  resulting  from  the  compact,  to  which 
the  states  are  parties,  as  limited  by  the  plain  sense  and  intention  of  the  instru 
ment  constituting  that  compact,  as  no  further  valid  than  they  are  authorized 
by  the  grants  enumerated  in  that  compact;  and  that,4n  case  of  a  deliberate, 
palpable,  and  dangerous  exercise  of  other  powers  not  granted  by  the  same 
compact,  the  states  who  are  parties  thereto  have  the  right  and  are  in  duty 
bound,  to  interpose  for  arresting  the  progress  of  the  evil,  and  for  maintaining, 
within  their  respective  limits,  the  authorities,  rights,  and  liberties  pertaining 
to  them."] 

Mr.  WEBSTER  resumed:  — 

I  am  quite  aware,  Mr.  President,  of  the  existence  of  the  resolution  which 
the  gentleman  read,  and  has  now  repeated,  and  that  he  relies  on  it  as  his  au 
thority  ^  I  know  the  source,  too,  from  which  it  is  undertsood  to  have  pro 
ceeded.  I  need  not  say,  that  I  have  much  respect  for  the  constitutional  opin 
ions  of  Mr.  Madison;  they  would  weigh  greatly  with  me,  always.  But,  be 
fore  the  authority  of  his  opinion  be  vouched  for  the  gentleman's  proposition, 
it  will  be  proper  to  consider  what  is  the  fair  interpretation  of  that  resolution, 
to  which  Mr.  Madison  is  understood  to  have  given  his  sanction.  As  the  gen 
tleman  construes  it,  it  is  an  authority  for  him.  Possibly  he  may  not  have 
adopted  the  right  construction.  That  resolution  declares,  that  in  the  case  of 
the  dangerous  exercise  of  powers  not  granted  by  the  general  government, 
the  states  may  interpose  to  arrest  the  progress  of  the  evil.  But  how  inter 
pose  ?  and  what  does  this  declaration  purport  ?  Does  it  mean  no  more  than 
that  there  may  be  extreme  cases  in  which  the  people,  in  any  mode  of  assem 
bling,  may  resist  usurpation,  and  relieve  themselves  from  a  tyrannical  govern 
ment  ?  No  one  will  deny  this.  Such  resistance  is  not  only  acknowledged  to 
be  just  in  America,  but  in  England  also.  Blackstone  admits  as  much,  in  the 
theory  and  practice,  too,  of  the  English  constitution.  We,  sir,  who  oppose 
the  Carolina  doctrine,  do  not  deny  that  the  people  may,  if  they  choose,  throw 
off  any  government,  when  it  becomes  oppressive  and  intolerable,  and  erect  a 
better  in  its  stead.  We  all  know  that  civil  institutions  are  established  for  the 
public  benefit,  and  that,  when  they  cease  to  answer  the  ends  of  their  existence 
they  may  be  changed. 

But  I  do  not  understand  the  doctrine  now  contended  for  to  be  that  which, 
for  the  sake  of  distinctness,  we  may  call  the  right  of  revolution.  I  under 
stand  the  gentleman  to  maintain,  that  without  revolution,  without  civil  com 
motion,  without  rebellion,  a  remedy  for  supposed  abuse  and  transgression  of 
the  powers  of  the  general  government  lies  in  a  direct  appeal  to  the  interfer 
ence  of  the  state  governments.  [Mr.  HAYNB  here  rose:  He  did  not  con 
tend,  he  said,  for  the  mere  right  of  revolution,  but  for  the  right  of  constitu 
tional  resistance.  What  he  maintained  was,  that,  in  case  of  a  plain,  palpable 
violation  of  the  constitution  by  the  general  government,  a  state  may  inter 
pose  ;  and  that  this  interpoeition  is  constitutional.] 

Mr.  WEBSTER  resumed  :  — 

YSo,  sir,  I  understood  the  gentleman,  and  am  happy  to  find  that  I  did  noi 
misunderstand  him.  What  he  contends  for  is,  that  it  is  constitutional  to  in 
terrupt  the  administration  of  the  constitution  itself,  in  the  hands  of  those  who 
are  chosen  and  sworn  to  administer  it,  by  the  direct  interference,  in  form  of 
kw,  of  the  states,  in  virtue  of  their  sovereign  capacity.  The  inherent  right  in 


203 

*he  people  to  reform  their  government  I  do  not  deny ;  and  that  they  have 
another  right,  and  that  is,  to  resist  unconstitutional  laws  without  overturning 
the  government.  It  is  no  doctrine  of  mine,  that  unconstitutional  laws  bind 
the  people.  The  great  question  is,  Whose  prerogative  is  it  to  decide  on  the  ^ 
constitutionality  or  unconstitutionality  of  the  laws?  On  that  the  main  de 
bate  hinges.  The  proposition  that,  in  case  of  a  supposed  violation  of  the  con 
stitution  by  Congress,  the  states  have  a  constitutional  right  to  interfere,  and 
annul  the  law  of  Congress,  is  the  proposition  of  the  gentleman ;  I  do  not  ad 
mit  it.  If  the  gentleman  had  intended  no  more  than  to  assert  the  right  of 
revolution  for  justifiable  cause,  he  would  have  said  only  what  all  agree  to.  — 
But  I  cannot  conceive  that  there  can  be  a  middle  course  between  submis 
sion  to  the  laws,  when  regularly  pronounced  constitutional,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  open  resistance,  which  is  revolution  or  rebellion,  on  the  other.  I  say  the 
right  of  a  state  to  annul  a  law  of  Congress  cannot  be  maintained  but  on  the 
ground  of  the  unalienable  right  of  man  to  resist  oppression ;  that  is  to  say, 
upon  the  ground  of  revolution.  I  admit  that  there  is  no  ultimate  violent 
remedy,  above  the  constitution,  and  in  defiance  of  the  constitution,  which  may 
be  resorted  to,  when  a  revolution  is  to  be  justified.  But  I  do  not  admit  that 
under  the  constitution,  and  in  conformity  with  it,  there  is  any  mode  in  which 
a  state  government,  as  a  member  of  the  Union,  can  interfere  and  stop  the  pro 
gress  of  the  general  government,  by  force  of  her  own  laws,  under  any  cir 
cumstances  whatever. 

This  leads  us  to  inquire  into  the  origin  of  this  government,  and  the  source 
of  its  power.  Whose  agent  is  it  ?  Is  it  the  creature  of  the  state  legislatures, 
or  the  creature  of  the  people  ?  If  the  government  of  the  United  States  be 
the  agent  of  the  state  governments,  then  they  may  control  it,  provided  they 
can  agree  in  the  manner  of  controlling  it ;  if  it  is  the  agent  of  the  people, 
then  the  people  alone  err  control  it,  restrain  it,  modify  or  reform  it.  It  is  ob 
servable  enough,  that  the  doctrine  for  which  the  honorable  gentleman  con 
tends,  loads  him  to  the  necessity  of  maintaining,  not  only  that  this  general 
government  is  the  creature  of  the  states,  but  that  it  is  the  creature  of  each  of 
the  states  severally ;  so  that  each  may  assert  the  power,  for  itself,  of  determin 
ing  whether  it  acts  within  the  limits  of  its  authority.  It  is  the  servant  of  four 
and  twenty  masters,  of  different  wills  and  different  purposes ;  and  yet  bound 
to  obey  all.  This  absurdity  (for  it  seems  no  less)  arises  from  a  misconception 
as  to  the  origin  of  this  government,  and  its  true  character.  It  is,  sir,  the  peo 
ple's  constitution,  the  people's  government;  made  for  the  people;  made  by  the 
people ;  and  answerable  to  the  people.  The  people  of  the  United  States  have 
declared  that  this  constitution  shall  be  the  supreme  law.  We  must  either  ad 
mit  the  proposition,  or  dispute  their  authority.  The  states  are  unquestionably 
sovereign,  so  far  as  their  sovereignty  is  not  affected  by  this  supreme  law.  The 
state  legislatures,  as  political  bodies,  however  sovereign,  are  yet  not  sovereign 
over  the  people.  So  far  as  the  people  have  given  power  to  the  general  gov 
ernment,  so  far  the  grant  is  unquestionably  good,  and  the  government  holds 
of  the  people,  and  not  of  the  state  governments.  We  are  all  agents  of  the 
same  supreme  power,  the  people.  The  general  government  and  the  state  gov 
ernments  derive  their  authority  from  the  same  source.  Neither  can,  in  rela 
tion  to  the  other,  be  called  primary;  though  one  is  definite  and  restricted,  and 
the  other  general  and  residuary. 

The  national  government  possesses  those  powers  which  it  can  be  shown  the 
people  have  conferred  on  it,  and  no  more.  All  the  rest  belongs  to  the  state 
governments,  or  to  the  people  themselves.  So  far  as  the  people  have  restrain- 


204 

ed  state  sovereignty  by  the  expression  of  their  will,  in  the  constitution  of  the 
United  States,  so  far,  it  must  be  admitted,  state  sovereignty  is  effectually  con 
trolled.  I  do  not  contend  that  it  is,  or  ought  to  be,  controlled  further.  The 
sentiment  to  which  I  have  referred  propounds  that  state  sovereignty  is  only  to 
be  controlled  by  its  own  "feelings  of  justice;"  that  is  to  say,  it  is  not  to  be 
controlled  at  all;  for  one  who  is  to  follow  his  feelings,  is  under  no  legal  con 
trol.  Now,  however  men  may  think  this  ought  to  be,  the  fact  is,  that  the  peo 
ple  of  the  United  States  have  chosen  to  impose  control  on  state  sovereignties. 
The  constitution  has  ordered  the  matter  differently  from  what  this  opinion  an 
nounces.  To  make  war,  for  instance,  is  an  exercise  of  sovereignty ;  but  the 
constitution  declares  that  no  state  shall  make  war.  To  coin  money  is  another 
exercise  of  sovereign  power;  but  no  state  is  at  liberty  to  coin  money.  Again: 
the  constitution  says,  that  no  sovereign  state  shall  be  so  sovereign  as  to  make  a 
treaty.  These  prohibitions,  it  must  be  confessed,  are  a  control  on  the  state 
sovereignty  of  South  Carolina,  as  well  as  of  the  other  states,  which  does  not 
arise  "from  feelings  of  honorable  justice."  Such  an  opinion,  therefore,  ia  in 
defiance  of  the  plainest  provisions  of  the  constitution. 

There  are  other  proceedings  of  public  bodies  which  have  already  been  al 
luded  to,  and  to  which  I  refer  again  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  more  ful 
ly  what  is  the  length  and  breadth  of  that  doctrine,  denominated  the  Carolina 
doctrine,  which  the  honorable  member  has  now7  stood  up  on  this  floor  to 
maintain. 

In  one  of  them  I  find  it  resolved  that  "the  tariff  of  1828,  and  every  other 
tariff  designed  to  promote  one  branch  of  industry  at  the  expense  of  others* 
is  contrary  to  the  meaning  and  intention  of  the  federal  compact;  and  as  such 
a  dangerous,  palpable,  and  deliberate  usurpation  of  power,  by  a  determined 
majority,  wielding  the  general  government  beyond  the.  limits  of  its  delegated 
powers,  as  calls  upon  the  states  which  compose  the  suffering  minority,  in  their 
sovereign  capacity,  to  exercise  the  powers  which,  as  sovereigns,  necessarily  de 
volve  upon  them,  when  their  compact  is  violated." 

Observe,  sir,  that  this  resolution  holds  the  tariff  of  1828,  and  every  other 
tariff',  designed  to  promote  one  branch  of  industry  at  the  expense  of  ^another, 
to  be  such  a  dangerous,  palpable,  and  deliberate  usurpation  of  power,  as  calls 
upon  the  states,  in  their  sovereign  capacity,  to  interfere,  by  their  own  power. 
This  denunciation,  Mr.  President,  you  will  please  to  observe,  includes  our  old 
tariff'  of  1810,  as  well  as  all  others;  because  that  was  established  to  promote 
the  interest  of  the  manufacturers  of  cotton,  to  the  manifest  and  admitted  injury 
of  the  Calcutta  cotton  trade.  Observe,  again,  that  all  the  qualifications  are 
here  rehearsed,  and  charged  upon  the  tariff,  which  are  necessary  to  bring  the 
case  within  the  gentleman's  proposition.  The  tariff"  is  a  usurpation;  it  is  a 
dangerous  usurpation ;  it  is  a  palpable  usurpation ;  it  is  a  deliberate  usurpa 
tion.  It  is  such  a  usurpation  as  calls  upon  the  states  to  exercise  their  light 
of  interferance.  Here  is  a  case,  then,  within  the  gentleman's  principles,  and 
all  his  qualifications  of  his  principles.  It  is  a  case  for  action.  The  constitu 
tion  is  plainly,  dangerously,  palpably,  and  deliberately  violated ;  and  the  states 
must  interpose  their  own  authority  to  arrest  the  law.  Let  us  suppose  the 
state  of  South  Carolina  to  express  this  same  opinion,  by  the  voice  of  her  le 
gislature.  That  would  be  very  imposing;  but  what  then?  Is  the  voice  of 
one  state  conclusive?  It  so  happens  that,  at  the  very  moment  when  South 
Carolina  resolves  that  the  tariff  la»vs  are  unconstitutional,  Pennsylvania  ana 
Kentucky  resolve  exactly  the  reverse.  They  hold  those  laws  to  be  both  high- 
Jy  proper  and  strictly  constitutional.  And  nowr,  sic,  how  does  the  honorabk 


205 

member  propose  to  deal  with,  this  case  ?  How  does  he  get  out  of  this  diffi 
culty,  upon  any  principle  of  his?  His  construction  gets  us  into  it;  how  does 
he  propose  to  get  us  out? 

In  Carolina,  the  tariff  is  a  palpable,  deliberate  usurpation ;  Carolina,  there 
fore,  may  nullify  it,  and  refuse  to  pay  the  duties.  In  Pennsylvania,  it  is  both 
clearly  constitutional  and  highly  expedient;  and  there  the  duties  are  to  be 
paid.  And  yet  we  live  under  a  government  of  uniform  laws,  and  under  a 
constitution,  too,  which  contains  an  express  provision,  as  it  happeLS,  that  all 
duties  shall  be  equal  in  all  the  states !  Does  not  this  approach  absurdity  ? 

If  there  be  no  power  to  settle  such  questions,  independent  of  either  of  the 
states,  is  not  the  whole  Union  a  rope  of  sand  ?  Are  we  not  thrown  back  again 
precisely  upon  the  old  confederation  ? 

It  is  too  plain  to  be  argued.  Four  and  twenty  interpreters  of  constitution 
al  law,  each-  with  a  power  to  decide  for  itself,  and  none  with  authority  to  bind 
anybody  else,  and  this  constitutional  law  the  only  bond  of  their  union !  What 
is  such  a  state  of  things  but  a  mere  connection  during  pleasure,  or,  to  use  the 
phraseology  of  the  times,  during  feeling  ?  And  that  feeling,  too,  not  the  feel 
ing  of  the  people  who  established  the  constitution,  but  the  feeling  of  the  state 
governments. 

In  another  of  the  South  Carolina  addresses,  having  premised  that  the  crisis 
requires  "  all  the  concentrated  energy  of  passion,"  an  attitude  of  open  resis 
tance  to  the  laws  of  the  Union  is  advised.  Open  resistance  to  the  laws,  then, 
is  the  constitutional  remedy,  the  conservative  power  of  the  state,  which  the 
South  CaroLna  doctrines  teach  for  the  redress  of  political  evils,  real  or  imagi 
nary.  And  its  authors  further  say  that,  appealing  with  confidence  to  the 
constitution  itself  to  justify  their  opinions,  they  cannot  consent  to  try  their  ac 
curacy  by  the  courts  of  justice.  In  one  sense,  indeed,  sir,  this  is  assuming  an 
attitude  of  open  resistance  in  favor  of  liberty.  But  what  sort  of  liberty  ?  The 
liberty  of  establishing  their  own  opinions,  in  defiance  of  the  opinions  of  all 
others;  the  liberty  of  judging  and  of  deciding  exclusively  themselves,  in  a 
matter  in  which  others  have  as  much  right  to  judge  and  decide  as  they ;  the 
liberty  of  placing  their  opinions  above  the  judgment  of  all  others,  above  the 
laws,  and  above  the  constitution.  This  is  their  liberty,  and  this  is  the  fair  re 
sult  of  the  proposition  contended  for  by  the  honorable  gentleman.  Or  it  may 
be  more  properly  said,  it  is  identical  with  it,  rather  than  a  result  from  it.  In 
the  .same  publication  we  find  the  following :  "  Previously  to  our  revolution, 
when  the  arm  of  oppression  was  stretched  over  New  England,  where  did  our 
.northern  brethren  meet  with  a  braver  sympathy  than  that  which  sprung  from 
the  bosom  of  Carolinians  ?  "We  had  no  extortion,  no  oppression,  no  collision 
with  the  king's  ministers,  no  navigation  interests  springing  up,  in  envious 
rivalry  cf  England? 

This  seems  extraordinary  language.  South  Carolina  no  collision  with  the 
king's  ministers  in  1775!  no  extortion!  no  oppression!  Fut,  sir,  it  is  also 
most  significant  language.  Does  any  man  doubt  the  purpose  for  which  it 
was  penned  ?  Can  any  one  fail  to  see  that  it  was  designed  to  raise  in  the 
reader's  mind  the  question,  whether,  at  this  time,  —  that  is  to  say,  in  1828, — 
South  Carolina  has  any  collision  with  the  king's  ministers,  any  oppression,  or 
extortion,  to  fear  from  England  ?  whether,  in  short,  England  is  not  as  natural 
ly  the  friend  of  South  Carolina  as  New  England,  with  her  navigation  inter 
ests  springing  up  in  envious  rivalry  of  England  ? 

Is  ii  not  strange,  sir,  that  an  intelligent  man  in  South  Carolina,  in  1828, 
should  thus  labor  to  prove,  that  in  1775,  there  was  no  hostility,  no  cause  of 


206 

wai,  between  South  Carolina  and  England  ?  tliat  she  had  no  occasion,  in  re 
ference  to  her  own  interest,  or  from  a  regard  to  her  own  welfare,  to  take  up 
arm&  in  the  revolutionary  contest?  Can  any  one  account  for  the  expression  of 
such  strange  sentiments,  and  their  circulation  through  the  state,  otherwise  than 
by  supposing  the  object  to  be,  what  I  have  already  intimated,  to  raise  the 
question,  if  they  had  no  "  collision  "  (mark  the  expression)  with  the  ministers 
of  King  George  the  Third,  in  1775,  what  collision  have  they,  in  1828,  with 
the  ministers  of  King  George  the  Fourth  ?  What  is  there  now,  in  the  exist 
ing  state  of  things,  to  separate  Carolina  from  Old,  more,  or  rather  less,  than 
from  New  England? 

Resolutions,  sir,  have  been  recently  passed  by  the  legislature  of  South  Car 
olina.  I  need  not  refer  to  them ;  they  go  no  further  than  the  honorable  gen 
tleman  himself  has  gone  —  and  I  hope  not  so  far.  I  content  myself  there 
fore,  with  debating  the  matter  with  him. 

And  now,  sir,  what  I  have  first  to  say  on  this  subject  is,  that  at  no  time,  and 
under  no  circumstances,  has  New  England,  or  any  state  in  New  England,  or 
any  respectable  body  of  persons  in  New  England,  or  any  public  man  of  stand 
ing  in  New  England,  put  forth  such  a  doctrine  as  this  Carolina  doctrine. 

The  gentleman  has  found  no  case  —  he  can  find  none  —  to  support  his  own 
opinions  by  New  England  authority.  New  England  has  studied  the  constitu 
tion  in  other  schools,  and  under  other  teachers.  She  looks  upon  it  with  other 
regards,  and  deems  more  highly  and  reverently,  both  of  its  just  authority  and 
its  utility  and  excellence.  The  history  of  her  legislative  proceedings  may  be 
traced  —  the  ephemeral  effusions  of  temporary  bodies,  called  together  by  the 
excitement  of  the  occasion,  may  be  hunted  up  —  they  have  been  hunted  up. 
The  opinions  and  votes  of  her  public  men,  in  and  out  of  Congress,  may  be 
explored  —  it  will  all  be  in  vain.  The  Carolina  doctrine  can  derive  from  her 
neither  countenance  nor  support.  She  rejects  it  now ;  she  always  did  reject 
it.  The  honorable  member  has  referred  to  expressions  on  the  subject  of  the 
embargo  law,  made  in  this  place  by  an  honorable  and  venerable  gentleman 
(MR.  HILLIIOUSE)  now  favoring  us  with  his  presence.  He  quotes  that  distin 
guished  senator  as  saying,  that  in  his  judgment  the  embargo  law  was  uncon 
stitutional,  and  that,  therefore,  in  his  opinion,  the  people  were  not  bound  to 
obey  it. 

That,  sir,  is  perfectly  constitutional  language.  As  unconstitutional  law  is 
not  binding;  but  then  it  does  not  rest  witli  a  resolution  or  a  law  of  a  state 
legislature  to  decide  whether  an  act  of  Congress  be  or  be  not  constitutional. 
An  unconstitutional  act  of  Congress  would  not  bind  the  people  of  this  Dis 
trict  although  they  have  no  legislature  to  interfere  in  their  behalf;  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  a  constitutional  law  of  Congress  does  bind  the  citizens  of 
every  state,  although  all  their  legislatures  should  undertake  to  anuul  it,  by  act 
or  resolution.  The  venerable  Connecticut  senator  is  a  constitutional  lawyer, 
of  sound  principles  and  enlarged  knowledge;  a  statesman  practiced  and  ex 
perienced,  bred  in  the  company  of  Washington,  and  holding  just  views  upon 
the  nature  of  our  governments.  He  believed  the  embargo  unconstitutional, 
and  so  did  others;  but  what  then  ?  Who  did  he  suppose  was  to  decide  that 
question  ?  The  state  legislature  ?  Certainly  not.  No  such  sentiment  ever 
escaped  his  lips.  Let  us  follow  up,  sir,  this  New  England  opposition  to  the 
embargo  laws;  let  us  trace  it,  till  we  discern  the  principle  which  controlled 
and  governed  New  England  throughout  the  whole  course  of  that  opposition 
We  shall  then  see  what  similarity  there  is  between  the  New  England  school 
of  constitutional  opinions  and  this  modern  Carolina  school.  The  gentleman, 


207 

I  think,  read  a  petition  from  some  single  individual,  addressed  to  the  legisla 
ture  of  Massachusetts,  asserting  the  Carolina  doctrine  —  that  is,  the  right  of 
state  interference  to  arrest  the  laws  of  the  Union.  The  fate  of  that  petition 
shows  the  sentiment  of  the  legislature.  It  met  no  favor.  The  opinions  of 
Massachusetts  were  otherwise.  They  had  been  expressed  in  1798,  in  answer 
to  the  resolutions  of  Virginia,  and  she  did  not  depart  from  them,  nor  bend 
them  to  the  times.  Misgoverned,  wronged,  oppressed,  as  she  felt  herself  to 
be,  she  still  held  fast  her  integrity  to  the  Union.  The  gentleman  may  lindin 
her  proceedings  much  evidence  of  dissatisfaction  with  the  measures  of  gov 
ernment,  and  great  and  deep  dislike,  she  claimed  no  right  still  to  sever  asund- 
der  the  bonds  of  the  Union.  There  was  heat,  and  there  was  anger  in  her 
political  feeling.  Be  it  so.  Her  heat  or  her  anger  did  not,  nevertheless,  be 
tray  her  into  infidelity  to  the  government.  The  gentleman  labors  to  prove 
that  she  disliked  the  embargo  as  much  as  South  Carolina  dislikes  the  tariftj 
and  expressed  her  dislike  as  strongly.  Be  it  so ;  but  did  she  propose  the 
Carolina  remedy?  Did  she  threaten  to  interfere,  by  state  authority,  to  an- 
nul  the  laws  of  the  Union?  That  is  the  question  for  the  gentleman's  con 
sideration. 

No  doubt,  sir,  a  great  majority  of  the  people  of  New  England  conscien 
tiously  believe  the  embargo  law  of  1807  unconstitutional  —  as  conscientiously, 
certainly,  as  the  people  of  South  Carolina  hold  that  opinion  of  the  tariff.  — 
They  reasoned  thus :  Congress  has  power  to  regulate  commerce ;  but  here  is 
a  law,  they  said,  stopping  all  commerce,  and  stopping  it  indefinitely.  The 
law  is  perpetual,  therefore,  as  the  law  against  treason  or  murder.  Now,  is  this 
regulating  commerce,  or  destroying  it  ?  Is  it  guiding,  controling,  giving  the 
rule  to  commerce,  as  a  subsisting  thing,  or  is  it  putting  an  end  to  it  alto 
gether  ?  Nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  a  majority  in  New  England 
deemed  this  law  a  violation  of  the  constitution.  This  very  case  required  by 
the  gentleman  to  justify  state  interference  had  then  arisen.  Massachusetts  be 
lieved  this  law  to  be  "a  deliberate,  palpable,  and  dangerous  exercise  of  a 
power  not  granted  by  the  constitution"  Deliberate  it  was,  for  it  was  long 
continued ;  palpable  she  thought  it,  as  no  words  in  the  constitution  gave  the 
power,  and  only  a  construction,  in  her  opinion  most  violent,  raised  it;  danger 
ous  it  was,  since  it  threatened  utter  ruin  to  her  most  important  interests. 
Here,  then,  was  a  Carolina  case.  How  did  Massachusetts  deal  with  it?  It 
was,  as  she  thought,  a  plain,  manifest,  palpable  violation  of  the  constitution; 
and  it  brought  ruin  to  her  doors.  Thousands  of  families,  and  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  individuals,  were  beggared  by  it.  "While  she  saw  and  felt  ill 
this,  she  saw  and  felt,  also,  that  as  a  measure  of  national  policy,  it  was  perfe  jt- 
ly  futile ;  that  the  country  was  no  way  benefitted  bv  that  which  caused  so 
much  individual  distress;  that  it  was  efficient  only  for  the  production  of  edl, 
and  f.]\  that  evil  inflicted  on  ourselves.  In  such  a  case,  under  such  circum 
stances,  how  did  Massachusetts  demean  herself?  Sir,  she  remonstrated,  she 
memorialized,  she  addressed  herself  to  the  general  government,  not  exactly 
"  with  the  concentrated  energy  of  passion,"  but  with  her  strong  sen*?,  and  the 
energy  of  sober  conviction.  But  she  did  not  interpose  the  arm  of  her  powei 
to  arrest  the  law,  and  break  the  embargo.  Far  from  it.  Her  principles 
bound  her  to  two  things;  and  she  followed  her  principles,  lead  where  they 
might.  First,  to  submit  to  every  constitutional  law  of  Congress ;  and  second 
ly,  if  the  constitutional  validity  of  the  law  b^  doubted,  <o  refer  that  question 
to  the  decision  of  the  proper  tribunals.  The  first  principle  is  vain  and  inef 
fectual  without  the  second.  A  majority  of  us  in  New  England  believed  the 


208 

embargo  law  unconstitutional ;  but  the  great  question  was,  and  always  will  be 
in  such  cases,  Who  is  to  decide  this  ?  Who  is  to  judge  between  the  people 
and  the  government  ?  And,  sir,  it  is  quite  plain,  that  the  constitution  of  the 
United  States  confers  on  the  government  itself,  to  be  exercised  by  its  appro 
priate  department,  this  power  of  deciding,  ultimately  and  conclusively,  upon 
the  just  extent  of  its  own  authority.  If  this  had  not  been  done,  we  should 
not  have  advanced  a  single  step  beyond  the  old  confederation. 

Being  fully  of  opinion  that  the  embargo  law  was  unconstitutional,  the  peo 
ple  of  New  England  were  yet  equally  clear  in  the  opinion  —  it  was  a  matter 
they  did  not  doubt  upon  —  that  the  question,  after  all,  must  be  decided  by 
the  judicial  tribunals  of  the  United  States.  Before  those  tribunals,  there 
fore,  they  brought  the  question.  Under  the  provisions  of  the  law,  they  had 
given  bonds,  to  millions  in  amount,  and  which  were  alleged  to  be  forfeited. 
They  suffered  the  bonds  to  be  sued,  and  thus  raised  the  question.  In  the  old- 
fashioned  way  of  settling  disputes,  they  went  to  law.  The  case  came  to  hear 
ing  and  solemn  argument;  and  he  who  espoused  their  cause  and  stood  up 
for  them  against  the  validity  of  the  act,  was  none  other  than  that  great  man, 
of  whom  the  gentleman  has  made  honorable  mention,  SAMUEL  DEXTER. 
He  was  then,  sir,  in  the  fullness  of  his  knowledge  and  the  maturity  of  his 
strength.  He  had  retired  from  long  and  distinguished  public  service  here,  to 
the  renewed  pursuit  of  professional  duties ;  carrying  with  him  all  that  enlarge 
ment  and  expansion,  all  the  new  strength  and  force,  which  an  acquaintance 
with  the  more  general  subjects  discussed  in  the  national  councils  is  capable  of 
adding  to  professional  attainment,  in  a  mind  of  true  greatness  and  compre 
hension.  He  was  a  lawyer,  and  he  was  also  a  statesman.  He  had  studied 
the  constitution,  when  he  filled  public  station,  that  he  might  defend  it ;  he  had 
examined  its  principles,  that  he  might  maintain  them.  More  than  all  men,  or 
at  least  as  much  as  any  man,  he  was  attached  to  the  general  government,  and 
to  the  union  of  the  states.  His  feelings  and  opinions  all  ran  in  that  direction. 
A  question  of  constitutional  law,  too,  was,  of  all  subjects,  that  one  which  Was 
best  suited  to  his  talents  and  learning.  Aloof  from  technicality,  and  unfet 
tered  by  artificial  rule,  such  a  question  gave  opportunity  for  that  deep  and 
clear  analysis,  that  mighty  grasp  of  principle,  which  so  much  distinguished 
his  higher  efforts.  His  very  statement  was  argument ;  his  inference  seemed 
demonstration.  The  earnestness  of  his  own  conviction  wrought  conviction  in 
others.  One  was  convinced,  and  believed,  and  consented,  because  it  was  grati 
fying,  delightful,  to  think,  and  feel,  and  believe,  in  unison  with  an  intellect  of 
such  evident  superiority. 

Mr.  Dexter,  sir,  such  as  I  have  described  him,  argued  the  New  England 
cause.  He  put  into  his  effort  his  whole  heart,  as  well  as  all  the  powers  of  his 
understanding;  for  he  had  avowed,  in  the  most  public  manner,  his  entire  con 
currence  with  his  neighbors,  on  the  point  in  dispute.  He  argued  the  cause; 
it  was  lost,  and  New  England  submitted.  The  established  tribunals  pro 
nounced  the  law  constitutional,  and  New  England  acquiesed.  Now,  sir,  is 
not  this  tie  exact  opposite  of  the  doctrine  of  the  gentleman  from  South  Caro 
lina  ?  According  to  him,  instead  of  referring  to  the  judicial  tribunals,  we 
should  have  broken  up  the  umbargo,  by  laws  of  our  own ;  we  should  have 
repealed  it,  quoad  New  England ;  for  we  had  a  strong,  palpable,  and  oppres 
sive  case.  Sir,  we  believe  the  embargo  unconstitutional ;  but  still,  that  was 
matter  of  opinion,  and  who  was  to  decide  it  ?  We  thought  it  a  clear  ca^e ; 
out,  nevertheless,  we  did  not  take  the  laws  into  our  hands,  because  we  did  not 
wish  to  bring  about  a  revolution,  nor  to  break  up  the  Union;  for  I  main- 


209 

tain,  that,  between  submission  to  the  decision  of  the  constituted  tribunes,  and 
revolution,  or  disunion,  there  is  no  middle  ground  —  there  is  no  ambiguous 
condition,  half  allegiance  and  half  rebellion.  There  is  no  treason,  madcosy. 
And,  sir,  how  futile,  how  very  futile  it  is,  to  admit  the  right  of  state  interfer 
ence,  and  then  to  attempt  to  save  it  from  the  character  of  unlawful  resistance, 
by  adding  terms  of  qualification  to  the  causes  and  occasions,  leaving  all  tho 
qualifications,  like  the  case  itself,  in  the  discretion  of  the  state  governments. 
It  must  be  a  clear  case,  it  is  said ;  a  deliberate  case ;  a  palpable  case ;  a  dan 
gerous  case.  But,  then,  the  state  is  still  left  at  liberty  to  decide  for  herself 
what  is  clear,  what  is  deliberate,  what  is  palpable,  what  is  dangerous. 

Do  adjectives  and  epithets  avail  any  thing  ?  Sir,  the  human  mind  is  so 
constituted,  that  the  merits  of  both  sides  of  a  controversy  appear  very  clear, 
and  very  palpable,  to  those  who  respectively  espouse  them,  and  both  sides 
usually  grow  clearer,  as  the  controversy  advances.  South  Carolina  sees  un- 
constitutionality  in  the  tariff — she  sees  oppression  there,  also,  and  she  sees 
danger.  Pennsylvania,  with  a  vision  not  less  sharp,  looks  at  the  same  tariff 
and  sees  no  such  thing  in  it  —  she  sees  it  all  constitutional,  all  useful,  all  safe. 
The  faith  of  South  Carolina  is  strengthened  by  opposition,  and  she  now  not 
only  sees,  but  resolves,  that  the  tariff  is  palpably  unconstitutional,  oppressive, 
and  dangerous ;  but  Pennsylvania,  not  to  be  behind  her  neighbors,  and  equal 
ly  willing  to  strengthen  her  own  faith  by  a  confident  asseveration,  resolves  al 
so,  and  gives  to  every  warm  affirmative  of  South  Carolina,  a  plain  downright 
Pennsylvania  negative.  South  Carolina  to  show  the  strength  and  unity  of 
her  opinions,  brings  her  assembly  to  a  unanimity,  within  seven  votes;  Penn 
sylvania,  not  to  be  outdone  in  this  respect  more  than  others,  reduces  her  dis 
sentient  fraction  to  one  vote.  Now,  sir,  again  I  ask  the  gentleman,  what  is 
to  be  done  ?  Are  these  states  both  right  ?  Is  he  bound  to  consider  them 
both  right  ?  If  not,  which  is  in  the  wrong  ?  or,  rather,  which  has  the  best 
right  to  decide  ? 

And  if  he,  and  if  I,  are  not  to  know  what  the  constitution  means,  and  what 
it  is,  till  those  two  state  legislatures,  and  the  twenty-two  others,  shall  agree  in 
its  construction  what  have  we  sworn  to,  when  we  have  sworn  to  maintain  ii  ? 
I  was  forcibly  struck,  sir,  with  one  reflection,  as  the  gentleman  went  on  with  his 
speech.  He  quoted  Mr.  Madison's  resolutions  to  prove  that  a  state  may  inter 
fere,  in  a  case  of  deliberate,  palpable,  and  dangerous  exercise  of  a  power  not 
granted.  The  honorable  member  supposes  the  tariff  law  to  be  such  an  exer- 
cise  of  power,  and  that  consequently,  a  case  has  arisen  in  which  the  state 
may,  if  it  see  fit,  interfere  by  its  own  law.  Now,  it  so  happens,  nevertheless, 
that  Madison  himself  deems  this  same  tariff  law  quite  constitutional.  Instead 
of  a  clear  and  palpable  violation,  it  is,  in  his  judgment,  no  violation  at  all. 
So  that,  while  they  use  his  authority  for  a  hypothetical  case,  they  reject  it  in 
the  very  case  before  them.  All  this,  sir,  shows  the  inherent  futility.  I  had 
almost  used  a  stronger  word  —  of  conceding  this  power  of  interference  to  he 
states,  and  then  attempting  to  secure  it  from  abuse  by  imposing  qualifications 
of  which  the  states  themselves  are  to  judge.  One  of  two  things  is  true ; 
either  the  laws  of  the  Union  are  beyond  the  control  of  the  states,  or  else  we 
have  no  constitution  of  general  government,  and  are  thrust  back  again  to  the 
days  of  the  confederacy. 

Let  me  here  say,  sir,  that  if  the  gentleman's  doctrine  had  been  received  and 

acted  upon  in  New  England,  in  the  times  of  the  embargo  and  non-intercourse, 

we  should  probably  not  now  have  been  here.     The  government  would  very 

likely  have  gone  to  pieces  and  crumbled  into  dust.     No  stronger  case  can 

14 


210 

ever  arise  than  existed  under  those  laws ,  no  states  can  ever  entertain  a  clearer 
conviction  than  the  New  England  States  then  entertained ;  and  if  they  had 
been  under  the  influence  of  that  heresy  of  opinion,  as  I  must  call  it,  which  the 
honorable  member  espouses,  this  Union  would,  in  all  probability  have  been 
scattered  to  the  four  winds.  I  ask  the  gentleman,  therefore,  to  apply  his  prin 
ciples  to  that  case ;  I  ask  him  to  come  forth  and  declare  whether,  in  his  opin 
ion,  the  New  England  States  would  have  been  justified  in  interfering  to  break 
up  the  embargo  system,  under  the  conscientious  opinions  which  he  held  upon 
it  Had  they  a  right  to  annul  that  law ?  Does  he  admit,  or  deny?  If  that 
which  is  thought  palbably  unconstitutional  in  South  Carolina  justifies  that 
state  in  arresting  the  progress  of  the  law,  tell  me  whether  that  which  was 
thought  palpably  unconstitutional  also  in  Massachusetts  would  have  justified 
her  in  doing  the  same  thing.  Sir,  I  deny  the  whole  doctrine.  It  has  not  a 
foot  of  ground  in  the  constitution  to  stand  on.  No  public  man  of  reputation 
ever  advanced  it  in  Massachusetts,  in  the  warmest  times,  or  could  maintain 
himself  upon  it  there  at  any  time. 

I  wish  now,  sir,  to  make  a  remark  upon  the  Virginia  resolutions  of  1798. 
I  cannot  undertake  to  say  how  these  resolutions  were  understood  by  those  who 
passed  them.  Their  language  is  not  a  little  indefinite.  In  the  case  of  the  ex 
ercise,  by  Congress,  of  a  dangerous  power,  not  granted  to  them,  the  resolu 
tions  assert  the  right,  on  the  part  of  the  state  to  interfere,  and  arrest  the  pro 
gress  of  the  evil.  This  is  susceptible  of  more  than  one  interpretation.  It 
may  mean  no  more  than  that  the  states  may  interfere  by  complaint  and  re 
monstrance,  or  by  proposing  to  the  people  an  alteration  of  the  federal  consti 
tution.  This  would  all  be  quite  unobjectionable ;  or  it  may  be  that  no  more 
is  meant  than  to  assert  the  general  right  of  revolution,  as  against  all  govern 
ments,  in  cases  of  intolerable  oppression.  This  no  one  doubts;  and  this,  in 
my  opinion,  is  all  that  he  who  framed  these  resolutions  could  have  meant  by 
it ;  for  I  shall  not  readily  believe  that  he  was  ever  of  opinion  that  a  state,  un 
der  the  constitution,  and  in  conformity  with  it,  could,  upon  the  ground  of  her 
own  opinion  of  its  unconstitutionality,  however  clear  and  palpable  she  might 
think  the  case,  annul  a  law  of  Congress,  so  far  as  it  should  operate  on  herself, 
by  her  own  legislative  power. 

y*-I  must  now  beg  to  ask,  sir,  Whence  is  this  supposed  right  of  the  states  de 
rived  ?  Where  do  they  get  the  power  to  interfere  with  the  laws  of  the  Union  ? 
Sir,  the  opinion  which  the  honorable  gentleman  maintains  is  a  notion  founded 
in  a  total  misapprehension,  in  my  judgment,  of  the  origin  of  this  government, 
and  of  the  foundation  on  which  it  stands.  I  hold  it  to  be  a  popular  govern 
ment,  erected  by  the  people,  those  who  administer  it  responsible  to  the  people, 
and  itself  capable  of  being  amended  and  modified,  just  as  the  people  may 
choose  it  should  be.  It  is  as  popular,  just  as  truly  emanating  from  the  peo 
ple,  as  the  state  governments.  It  is  created  for  one  purpose ;  the  state  gov 
ernments  for  another.  It  has  its  own  powers;  they  have  theirs.  There  is  no 
more  authority  with  them  to  arrest  the  operation  of  a  law  of  Congress,  than 
with  Congress  to  arrest  the  operation  of  their  laws.  We  are  here  to  adminis 
ter  a  constitution  emanating  immediately  from  the  people,  and  trusted  by 
them  to  our  administration.  It  is  not  the  creature  of  the  state  governments. 
It  is  of  no  moment  to  the  argument  that  certain  acts  of  the  state  legislatures 
are  necessary  to  fill  our  seats  in  this  body.  That  is  not  one  of  their  original 
state  powers,  a  part  of  the  sovereignty  of  the  state.  It  is  a  duty  which  the 
people,  by  the  constitution  itself,  have  imposed  on  the  state  legislatures,  and 
which  they  might  have  left  to  be  performed  elsewhere,  if  they  had  seen  fit. 


211 

So  they  have  left  the  choice  of  president  with  electors ;  but  all  this  does  not 
affect  the  proposition  that  this  whole  government  —  President,  Senate  and 
House  of  Representatives  —  is  a  popular  government.  It  leaves  it  still  all  its 
popular  character.  The  governor  of  a  state  (in  some  of  the  states)  is  chosen 
not  directly  by  the  people  for  the  purpose  of  performing,  among  other  duties, 
that  of  electing  a  governor.  Is  the  government  of  the  state  on  that  account 
not  a  popular  government  ?  This  government,  sir,  is  the  independent  offspring 
of  the  popular  will.  It  is  not  the  creature  of  state  legislatures ;  nay.  more,  if 
the  whole  truth  must  be  told,  the  people  brought  it  into  existence,  established 
it>  and  have  hitherto  supported  it,  for  the  very  purpose,  amongst  others,  of  im 
posing  certain  salutary  restraints  on  state  sovereignties.  The  states  cannot  now 
make  war ;  they  cannot  contract  alliances ;  they  cannot  make,  each  for  itself, 
separate  regulations  of  commerce ;  they  cannot  lay  imposts ;  they  cannot  coin 
money.  If  this  constitution,  sir,  be  the  creature  of  state  legislatures,  it  must 
be  admitted  that  it  has  obtained  a  strange  control  over  the  volition  of  its 
creators. 

The  people  then,  sir,  erected  this  government.  They  gave  it  a  constitution, 
and  in  that  constitution  they  have  enumerated  the  powers  which  they  bestow 
on  it.  They  have  made  it  a  limited  government.  They  have  defined  its  au 
thority.  They  have  restrained  it  to  the  exercise  of  such  powers  as  are  grant 
ed;  and  all  others,  they  declare,  are  reserved  to  the  states  or  the  people.  But, 
sir,  they  have  not  stopped  here.  If  they  had,  they  would  have  accomplished 
but  half  their  work.  No  definition  can  be  so  clear  as  to  avoid  possibility  of 
doubt ;  no  limitation  so  precise  as  to  exclude  all  uncertainty.  Who,  then,  shall 
construe  this  grant  of  the  people  ?  Who  shall  interpret  their  wi  1,  where  it 
may  be  supposed  they  have  left  it  doubtful  ?  With  whom  do  they  leave  this 
ultimate  right  of  deciding  on  the  powers  of  the  government  ?  Sir,  they  have 
settled  all  this  in  the  fullest  manner.  They  have  left  it  with  the  government 
itself,  in  its  appropriate  branches.  Sir,  the  very  chief  end,  the  main  design 
for  which  the  whole  constitution  was  framed  and  adopted,  was  to  establish  a 
government  that  should  not  be  obliged  to  act  through  state  agency,  or  depend 
on  state  opinion  and  discretion.  The  people  had  had  quite  enough  of  that 
kind  of  government  under  the  confederacy.  Under  that  system,  the  legal 
action  —  the  application  of  law  to  individuals — belonged  exclusively  to  the 
states.  Congress  could  only  recommend  —  their  acts  were  not  of  binding 
force  till  the  states  had  adopted  and  sanctioned  them.  Are  we  in  that  con 
dition  still  ?  Are  we  yet  at  the  mercy  of  state  discretion  and  state  construc 
tion?  Sir,  if  we  are,  then  vain  w'll  be  our  attempt  to  maintain  the  constitu 
tion  under  which  we  sit. 

But,  sir,  the  people  have  wisely  provided,  in  the  constitution  itself,  a  proper, 
suitable  mode  and  tribunal  for  settling  questions  of  constitutional  law.  There 
are,  in  the  constitution,  grants  of  powers  to  Congress,  and  restrict  ons  o  i  those 
powers.  There  are  also  prohibitions  on  the  states.  Some  authority  must 
therefore  necessarily  exist,  having  the  ultimate  jurisdiction  to  fix  and  ascertain 
the  interpretation  of  these  grants,  restrictions,  and  prohibitions.  The  constitu 
tion  has  itself  pointed  out,  ordained,  and  established  that  authority.  How  has 
it  accomplished  this  great  and  essential  end  ?  By  declaring,  sir,  that  "  the 
constitution  and  the  laws  of  the  United  States,  made  in  pursuance  thereof, 
shall  be  the  supreme  law  of  the  land,  any  thing  in  the  constitution  or  laws 
of  any  state  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding" 

This,  sir,  was  the  first  great  step.  By  this,  the  supremacy  of  the  constitution 
and  laws  of  the  United  States  is  declared.  The  people  so  will  it.  No  state 


21Q 

law  is  to  be  valid  which  comes  in  conflict  with  the  constitution  or  any  law  of 
the  United  States.  But  who  shall  decide  this  question  of  interference  ?  To 
whom  lies  the  last  appeal  ?  This,  sir,  the  constitution  itself  decides  also,  by- 
declaring  "that  the  judicial  power  shall  extend  to  all  cases  arising  under  the 
constitution  and  laws  of  the  United  States"  These  two  provisions,  sir, 
cover  the  whole  ground.  They  are,  in  truth,  the  keystone  of  the  arch.  With 
these  it  is  a  government',  without  them  it  is  a  confederacy.  In  pursuance  of 
these  clear  and  express  provisions,  Congress  established,  at  its  very  first  session, 
in  the  judicial  act,  a  mode  for  carrying  them  into  full  effect,  and  for  bringing 
all  questions  of  constitutional  power  to  the  final  decision  of  the  Supreme  Court. 
It  then,  sir,  became  a  government.  It  then  had  the  means  of  self-protection ; 
and  but  for  this,  it  would,  in  all  probability,  have  been  now  among  things 
which  are  .passed.  Having  constituted  the  government,  and  declared  its 
powers,  the  people  have  further  said,  that  since  somebody  must  decide  on  the 
extent  of  these  powers,  the  government  shall  itself  decide  —  subject  always 
like  other  popular  governments,  to  its  responsibility  to  the  people.  And  now, 
sir,  I  repeat,  how  is  it  that  a  state  legislature  acquires  any  right  to  interfere  ? 
Who,  or  what,  gives  them  the  right  to  say  to  the  people,  "  We,  who  are  your, 
agents  and  servants  for  one  purpose,  will  undertake  to  decide,  that  your  other 
agents  and  servants,  appointed  by  you  for  another  purpose,  have  transcended 
the  authority  you  gave  them "  ?  The  reply  would  be,  I  think,  not  imperti 
nent,  "  Who  made  you  a  judge  over  another's  servants.  To  their  own  masters 
they  stand  or  fall." 

Sir,  I  deny  this  power  of  state  legislatures  altogether.  It  cannot  stand  the 
test  of  examination.  Gentlemen  may  say,  that,  in  an  extreme  case,  a  state 
government  might  protect  the  people  from  intolerable  oppression.  Sir,  in 
such  a  case  the  people  might  protect  themselves,  without  the  aid  of  the  state 
governments.  Such  a  case  wan-ants  revolution.  It  must  make,  when  it 
comes,  a  law  for  itself.  A  nullifying  act  of  a  state  legislature  cannot  alter  the 
case,  nor  make  resistance  any  more  lawful.  In  maintaining  these  sentiments, 
air,  I  am  but  asserting  the  rights  of  the  people.  I  state  what  they  have 
declared,  and  insist  on  their  right  to  declare  it.  They  have  chosen  to  repose 
this  power  in  the  general  government,  and  I  think  it  my  duty  to  support  it, 
tike  other  constitutional  powers. 

For  myself,  sir,  I  doubt  the  jurisdiction  of  South  Carolina,  or  any  other  state, 
co  prescribe  my  constitutional  duty,  or  to  settle,  between  me  and  the  people, 
(he  validity  of  laws  of  Congress  for  which  I  have  voted.  I  decline  her 
umpirage.  I  have  not  sworn  to  support  the  constitution  according  to  her  con 
struction  of  its  clauses.  I  have  not  stipulated,  by  my  oath  of  office  or  otherwise, 
to  come  under  any  responsibility,  except  to  the  people  and  those  whom  they 
have  appointed  to  pass  upon  the  question,  whether  the  laws,  supported  by  my 
votes,  conform  to  the  constitution  of  the  country.  And,  sir,  if  we  look  to  the 
general  nature  of  the  case,  could  any  thing  have  been  more  preposterous  than 
to  have  made  a  government  for  the  whole  Union,  and  yet  left  its  powers 
subject,  not  to  one  interpretation,  but  to  thirteen  or  twenty-four  interpretations  ? 
Instead  of  one  tribunal,  established  by  all,  responsible  to  all,  with  power  to 
decide  for  all,  shall  constitutional  questions  be  left  to  four  and  twenty  popular 
bodies,  each  at  liberty  to  decide  for  itself,  and  none  bound  to  respect  the 
decisions  of  others ;  and  each  at  liberty,  too,  to  give  a  new  construction,  on 
every  new  election  of  its  own  members  ?  Would  any  thing,  with  such  a  prin 
ciple  i«  it,  or  rather  with  such  a  destitution  of  all  principle,  be  fit  to  be  called 
»  government  ?  No,  sir.  It  should  not  be  denominated  a  constitution.  It 


213 

should  be  called,  rather,  a  collection  of  topics  for  everlasting  controversy ; 
heads  of  debate  for  a  disputatious  people.  It  would  not  be  a  government.  It 
would  not  be  adequate  to  any  practical  -good,  nor  fit  for  any  country  to  live 
under.  To  avoid  all  possibility  of  being  misunderstood,  allow  me  to  repeat 
again,  in  the  fullest  manner,  that  I  claim  no  powers  for  the  government  by 
forced  or  unfair  construction.  I  admit  that  it  is  a  government  of  strictly  lim 
ited  powers;  of  enumerated,  specified,  and  particularized  powers;  and  that 
whatsoever  is  not  granted  is  withheld.  But,  notwithstanding  all  this,  and 
however  the  grant  of  powers  may  be  expressed,  its  limits  and  extent  may  yet, 
in  some  cases,  admit  of  doubt;  and  the  general  government  would  be  good 
for  nothing,  it  would  be  incapable  of  long  existence,  if  some  mode  had  not 
been  provided  in  which  those  doubts,  as  they  should  arise,  might  be  peacea 
bly,  but  not  authoritatively,  solved.^. 

And  now,  Mr.  President,  let  me  run  the  honorable  gentleman's  doctrine  a 
little  into  its  practical  application.  Let  us  look  at  his  probable  modus  operandi. 
If  a  thing  can  be  done,  an  ingenious  man  can  tell  how  it  is  to  be  done.  Now; 
I  wish  to  be  informed  how  this  state  interference  is  to  be  put  in  practice.  We 
will  take  the  existing  case  of  the  tariff  law.  South  Carolina  is  said  to  have 
made-up  her  opinion  npon  it.  If  we  do  not  repeal  it,  (as  we  probably  shall 
not,)  she  will  then  apply  to  the  case  the  remedy  of  her  doctrine.  She  will, 
we  must  suppose,  pass  a  law  of  her  legislature,  declaring  the  several  acts  of 
Congress,  usually  called  the  tariff  laws,  null  and  void,  so  far  as  they  respec. 
South  Carolina,  or  the  citizens  thereof.  So  far,  all  is  a  paper  transaction,  and 
easy  enough.  But  the  collector  at  Charleston  is  collecting  the  duties  imposed 
by  these  tariff  laws  —  he,  therefore,  must  be  stopped.  The  collector  will  seize 
the  goods  if  the  tariff  duties  are  not  paid.  The  state  authorities  will  under 
take  their  rescue :  the  marshal,  with  his  posse,  will  come  to  the  collector's  aid ; 
and  here  the  contest  begins.  The  militia  of  the  state  will  be  called  out  to 
sustain  the  nullifying  act.  They  will  march,  sir,  under  a  very  gallant  leader; 
for  I  believe  the  honorable  member  himself  commands  the  militia  of  that  part 
of  the  state.  He  will  raise  the  NULLIFYING  ACT  on  his  standard,  and  spread 
it  out  as  his  banner.  It  will  have  a  preamble,  bearing  that  the  tariff  laws  are 
palpable,  deliberate,  and  dangerous  violations  of  the  constitution.  He  will 

proceed,  with  his  banner  flying,  to  the  custom  house  in  Charleston, — 
• 

"  all  the  \diile 
Sonorous  metal  blowing  martial  sounds." 

Arrived  at  the  custom  house,  he  will  tell  the  collector  that  he  must  collect  no 
more  duties  under  any  of  the  tariff  laws.  This  he  will  be  somewhat  puzzled 
to  say,  by  the  way,  with  a  grave  countenance,  considering  what  hand  South 
Carolina  herself  had  in  that  of  1816.  But,  sir,  the  collector  would,  probably, 
not  desist  at  his  bidding.  Here  would  ensue  a  pause ;  for  they  say,  that  a  cer 
tain  stillness  precedes  the  tempest.  Before  this  military  array  should  fall  on 
custom  house,  collector,  clerks,  and  all,  it  is  very  probable  some  of  those  corn- 
posing  it  would  request  of  their  gallant  commander- in-chief  to  be  informed  a 
little  upon  the  point  of  law ;  for  they  have  doubtless  a  just  respect  for  his  opin 
ions  as  a  lawyer,  as  well  as  for  his  bravery  as  a  soldier.  They  know  he  has 
read  Blackstone  and  the  constitution,  as  well  as  Turenne  and  Vauban.  They 
would  ask  him.,  therefore,  something  concerning  their  rights  in  this  matter. 
They  would  inquire  whether  it  was  not  somewhat  dangerous  to  resist  a  law  of 
the  United  States.  What  would  be  the  nature  of  their  offence,  they  would 
wish  to  learn,  if  they,  by  military  force  and  array,  resisted  the  execution  in 


214 

Carolina  of  a  law  of  the  United  States,  and  it  should  turn  out,  after  all,  that 
the  law  was  constitutional.  He  would  answer,  of  course,  treason.  No  lawyer 
could  give  any  other  answer.  John  Fries,  he  would  tell  them,  had  learned 
that  some  years  ago.  How,  then,  they  would  ask,  do  you  propose  to  defend 
us  ?  We  are  not  afraid  of  bullets,  but  treason  has  a  way  of  taking  people  off 
that  we  do  not  much  relish.  How  do  you  propose  to  defend  us  ?  "  Look  at 
my  floating  banner,"  he  would  reply ;  "  see  there  the  nullifying  law  !"  Is  it 
your  opinion,  gallant  commander,  they  would  then  say,  that  if  we  should  be 
indicted  for  treason,  that  same  floating  banner  of  yours  would  make  a  good 
plea  in  bar  ?  "  South  Carolina  is  a  soverign  state,"  he  would  reply.  That  is 
true ;  but  would  the  judge  admit  our  plea  ?  "  These  tariff  laws,"  he  would 
repeat,  "  are  unconstitutional,  palpably,  deliberately,  dangerously."  That  all 
may  be  so;  but  if  the  tribunals  should  n6t  happen  to  be  of  that  opinion,  shall 
we  swing  for  it  ?  We  are  ready  to  die  for  our  country,  but  it  is  rather  an 
awkward  business,  this  dying  without  touching  the  ground.  After  all,  this  is 
a  son  of  7iejwj9~tax,  worse  than  any  part  of  the  tariff. 

Mr.  President,  the  honorable  gentleman  would  be  in  a  dilemma  like  that  of 
another  great  general.  He  would  have  a  knot  before  him  which  he  could  no* 
untie.  He  must  cut  it  with  his  sword.  H&  must  say  to  his  followers,  Deferu 
yourselves  with  your  bayonets ;  and  this  is  war  —  civil  war. 
ADirect  collision,  therefore,  between  force  and  force,  is  the  unavoidable  result 
of  that  remedy  for  the  revision  of  unconstitutional  laws  which  the  gentleman 
contends  for.  It  must  happen  in  the  very  first  case  to  which  it  is  applied. 
JCs  not  this  the  plain  results  To  lesist,  by  force,  the  execution  of  a  law,  gen 
erally,  is  treason.  Can  the  courts  oi%  the  United  States  take  notice  of  the 
indulgence  of  a  state  to  commit  treason  ?  The  common  saying,  that  a  state 
cannot  commit  treason  herself,  is  nothing  to  the  purpose.  Can  it  authorize 
others  to  do  it?  If  John  Fries  had  produced  an  act  of  Pennsylvania,  annul 
ling  the  law  of  Congress,  would  it  have  helped  his  case  ?  Talk  about  it  as  we 
will,  these  doctrines  go  the  length  of  revolution.  The>  aie  incompatible  with 
any  peaceable  administration  of  the  government.  They  iead  directly  to  dis 
union  and  civil  commotion ;  and  therefore  it  is,  that  at  the  commencement, 
when  they  are  first  found  to  be  maintained  by  respectable  men,  and  in  a  tangi- 

_ble  form,  that  I  enter  my  public  protest  against  them  all. 

"~  \The  honorable  gentleman  argues,  that  if  this  government  be  the  sole 
judge  of  the  extent  of  its  own  powers,  whether  that  right  of  judging  be  in 
Congress  or  the  Supreme  Court,  it  equally  subverts,  state  soverenty.  This 
the  gentleman  sees,  or  thinks  he  sees,  although  he  cannot  perceive  how  the 
right  of  judging  in  this  matter,  if  left  to  the  exercise  of  state  legislatures,  has 
any  tendency  to  subvert  the  government  of  the  Union.  The  gentleman's 
opinion  may  be  that  the  right  ought  not  to  have  been  lodged  with  the  gene 
ral  government ;  he  may  like  better  such  a  constitution  as  we  should  have 
under  the  right  of  state  interference ;  but  I  ask  him  to  meet  me  on  the  plain 
matter  of  fact  —  I  ask  him  to  meet  me  on  the  constitution  itself — I  ask  him 
if  the  power  is  not  there  —  clearly  and  visibly  found  there. 

But,  sir,  what  is  this  danger,  and  what  the  grounds  of  it  ?  Let  it  be  re 
membered,  that  the  constitution  of  the  United  States  is  not  unalterable.  It 
is  to  continue  in  its  present  form  no  longer  than  the  people  who  established 
it  shall  choose  to  continue  it.  If  they  shall  become  convinced  that  they  have 
made  an  injudicious  or  inexpedient  partition  and  distribution  of  power  be 
tween  the  state  governments  and  the  general  government,  they  can  alter  that 
distribution  at  will. 


215 

If  anytliiug  be  found  in  the  national  constitution,  either  by  original  prov- 
vision  or  subsequent  interpretation,  which  ought  not  to  be  in  it,  the  people 
know  how  to  get  rid  of  it.  If  any  construction  be  established,  unacceptable 
to  them,  so  as  to  become,  practically,  a  part  of  the  constitution,  they  will 
amend  it  at  their  own  sovereign  pleasure.  But  while  the  people  choose  to 
maintain  it  as  it  is,  while  they  are  satisfied  with  it,  and  refuse  to  change  it, 
who  has  given,  or  who  can  give,  to  the  state  legislatures  a  right  to  alter  it, 
either  by  interference,  construction,  or  otherwise  ?  Gentlemen  do  not  seem  to 
recollect  that  the  people  have  any  power  to  do  anything  for  themselves ;  they 
imagine  there  is  no  safety  for  them  any  longer  than  they  are  under  the 
close  guardianship  of  the  state  legislatures.  Sir,  the  people  have  not  trusted 
their  safety,  in  regard  to  the  general  constitution,  to  these  hands  they  have  re 
quired  other  security,  and  taken  other  bonds.  They  have  chosen  to  trust 
themselves,  first  to  the  plain  words  of  the  instrument,  and  to  such  construction 
as  the  government  itself,  in  doubtful  cases,  should  put  on  its  own  powers,  un 
der  their  oaths  of  office,  and  subject  to  their  responsibility  to  them  j^just  aa^ 
the  people  of  a  state  trust  their  own  state  governments  with  a  similar  pow^S, 
Secondly,  they  have  reposed  their  trust  in  the  efficacy  of  frequent  elections, 
and  in  their  own  power  to  remote  their  own  servants  and  agents,  whenever 
they  see  cause.  Thirdly,  they  have  reposed  trust  in  the  judicial  power,  which, 
in  order  that  it  might  be  trustworthy,  they  have  made  as  respectable,  as  disin 
terested,  and  as  independent  as  practicable.  Fourthly,  they  have  seen  fit  to 
rely,  in  case  of  necessity,  or  high  expediency,  on  their  known  and  admitted 
power  to  alter  or  amend  the  constitution,  peaceably  and  quietly,  whenever  ex 
perience  shall  point  out  defects  or  imperfections.  And  finally,  the  people  of 
the  United  States  have  at  no  time,  in  no  way,  directly  or  indirectly,  author 
ized  any  state  legislature  to  construe  or  interpret  their  instrument  of  govern 
ment  ;  much  less  to  interfere,  by  their  own  power,  to  arrest  its  course  and 
operation.  \ 

If  sir,  the  people,  in  these  respects,  had  done  otherwise  than  they  have  done, 
their  constitution  could  neither  have  been  preserved,  nor  would  it  have  been 
worth  preserving.  And  if  its  plain  provision  shall  now  be  disregarded,  and 
these  new  doctrines  interpolated  in  it,  it  will  become  as  feeble  and  helpless  a 
being  as  enemies,  whether  early  or  more  recent,  could  possibly  desire.  It  will 
exist  in  every  state,  but  as  a  poor  dependant  on  state  permission.  It  must 
borrow  leave  to  be,  and  will  be,  no  longer  than  state  pleasure,  or  state  discre 
tion,  sees  fit  to  grant  the  indulgence,  and  to  prolong  its  poor  existence. 

But,  sir,  although  there  are  fears,  there  are  hopes  also.  The  people  have 
preserved  this,  their  own  chosen  constitution,  for  forty  years,  and  have  seen 
their  happiness,  prosperity,  and  renown  grow  with  its  growth  and  strengthen 
with  its  strength.  They  are  now,  generally,  strongly  attached  to  it.  Over 
thrown  by  direct  assault  it  cannot  be;  evaded,  undermined,  NULLIFIED,  it  will 
not  be,  if  we,  and  those  who  shall  succeed  us  here,  as  agents  and  representa 
tives  of  the  people,  shall  conscientiously  and  vigilantly  discharge  the  two 
great  branches  of  our  public  trust  —  faithfully  to  preserve  and  wisely  to  ad 
minister  it.  .-.•..--.__. 

X/7  Mr.  President,  I  have  thus  stated  the  reasons  of  my  dissent  to  the  doctrines 
which  have  been  advanced  and  maintained.  I  am  conscious  of  having  de 
tained  you,  and  the  Senate,  much  too  long.  I  was  drawn  into  the  debate 
with  no  previous  deliberation  such  as  is  suited  to  the  discussion  of  so  grave 
and  important  a  subject.  But  it  is  a  subject  of  which  my  heart  is  full,  and  I 
have  not  been  willing  to  suppress  the  utterance  of  its  spontaneous  sentiments. 


216 

I  cannot,  even  now,  persuade  myself  to  relinquish  it,  without  expressing 
once  more,  my  deep  conviction,  that  since  it  respects  nothing  less  than  the 
union  of  the  states,  it  is  of  most,  vital  and  essential  importance  to  the  public 
happiness.  I  I  profess,  sir  in  my  career  hitherto,  to  have  kept  steadily  in  view 
the  prosperity  and  honor  of  the  \vhole  country,  and  the  preservation  of  our 
Federal  Union.  It  is  to  that  Union  we  owe  our  safety  at  home,  and  our. con 
sideration  and  dignity  abroad.  It  is  to  that  Union  we  are  chiefly  indebted 
for  whatever  makes  us  most  proud  of  our  country.  That  Union  we  reached 
only  by  the  discipline  of  our  virtues  in  the  severe  school  of  adversity.  It  had 
its  origin  in  the  necessites  of  disordered  finance,  prostrate  commerce,  and 
ruined  credit.  Under  its  benign  influences,  these  great  interests  immediately 
awoke,  as  from  the  dead,  and  sprang  forth  with  newness  of  life.  Every  year 
of  its  duration  has  teemed  with  fresh  proofs  of  its  utility  and  its  blessings ;  and 
although  our  territory  has  stretched  out  wider  and  wider,  and  our  population 
spread  farther  and  farther,  they  have  not  outrun  its  protection  or  its  benefits. 
«njLhas  been  to  us  all  a  copious  fountain  of  national,  social,  personal  happiness. 
lLave  not  allowed  myself,  sir,  to  look  beyond  the  Union,  to  see  what  might 
lie  hidden  in  the  dark  recess  behind.  I  have  not  coolly  weighed  the  chances 
of  preserving  liberty,  when  the  bonds  that  Ttiite  us  together  shall  be  broken 
asunder.  1  have  not  accustomed  myself  to  hang  over  the  precipice  of  disun 
ion,  to  see  whether,  with  my  short  sight,  I  can  fathom  the  depth  of  the  abyss 
below;  nor  could  I  regard  him  as  a  safe  counsellor  in  the  affairs  of  this 
government,  whose  thoughts  should  be  mainly  bent  on  considering,  not  how 
the  Union  should  be  best  preserved,  but  how  tolerable  might  be  the  condition 
of  the  people  when  it  shall  be  broken  up  and  destroyed.  While  the  Union 
lasts,  we  have  high,  exciting,  gratifying  prospects  spread  out  before  us,  for  us 
and  our  children.  Beyond  that  I  seek  not  to  penetrate  the  veil.  God  grant 
that  in  my  day  at  least,  that  curtain  may  not/ise.  God  grant  that  on  my 
vision  never  may  be  opened  what  lies  behind.  fWhen  my  eyes  shall  be  turned 
to  behold,  for  the  last  time,  the  sun  in  heaven,  may  I  not  see  him  shining  on 
the  broken  and  dishonored  fragments  of  a  once-glorious  Union ;  on  states  dis 
severed,  discordant,  belligerent ;  on  a  land  rent  with  civil  feuds,  or  drenched, 
it  may  be,  in  fraternal  blood !  Let  their  last  feeble  and  lingering  glance, 
rather,  behold  the  gorgeous  ensign  of  the  republic,  now  known  and  honored 
throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high  advanced,  its  arms  and  trophies  streaming 
in  their  original  lustre,  not  a  stripe  erased  or  polluted,  nor  a  single  star 
obscured  —  beaming  for  its  motto  no  such  miserable  interrogatory  as,  What 
is  all  this  ivorth?  nor  those  other  words  of  Delusion  and  folly,,  *  Liberty  first, 
and  Union  afterwards;  but  every  where,  spread  all-over  in  characters  of 
living  light,  blazing  on  all  its  ample  folds,  as  they  float  over  the  sea  and  over 
the  land,  and  in  every  wind  under  the  whole  heavens,"  that  other  sentiment,  dear 
to  every  true  American  heart  —  Liberty  and  Union,  now  and  forever,  one 
and  inseparable ! 


217 


The  great  Orations  and  Senatorial  Speech  of  DANIEL  WEBSTER,  comprising  Eulogy  on 
ADAMS  and  JEFFERSON  ;  First  Settlement  of  New  England  ;  Bunker  Hill  Monu 
ment  ;  Reply  to  HAYNE.  Rochester  :  WILBUR  M.  HAYWARD,  No.  4,  Burns'  Build 
ing,  2d  floor,  Publisher.  Sold  by  MoMAHOX,  DEWEY,  and  WANZER,  BEARDSLEY 
<fc  Co.,  —  1853. 

The  four  Speeches,  in  the  volume  above  named,  are  among  the  chief  efforts  of  the 
mighty  intellect  of  Webster.  They  were  all  delivered  in  the  full  maturity  of  his 
powers,  and  when  the  councils  of  the  nation  were  rendered  illustrious  by  the  foremost 
men  of  the  time.  There  were  then  other  contestants  for  the  palm  of  superior  states 
manship  —  contestants  they  might  be,  but  hardly  rivals.  It  was  a  period  too,  full  of 
promise,  though  environed  with  peril.  The  great  men  of  the  Revolution  had  passed 
away  ;  an  era  had  arrived  when  the  firmness  of  the  Constitution  was  to  be  tested. 
In  this  stormy  and  turbulent  hour,  when  men  failed  before  the  unanswered  and  dan 
gerous  sophistries  of  the  great  Carolinian  —  when  the  eloquence  of  Hayne  had  left 
his  opponents  timid  and  irresolute  ;  then  it  was  that  this  the  noblest  speech  of  Web 
ster's  was  made  ;  fixing  his  fame,  establishing  his  vast  abilities  upon  an  impregnable 
basis,  and  giving  him  a  world  -wide  name. 

Any  memorial  of  Mr.  Webster  is  valuable,  and  while  his  worts  are  at  so  high  a 
price  and  beyond  the  reach  of  the  majority  of  his  countrymen,  it  is  gratifying  to 
know  that  these  four  of  his  most  remarkable  speeches  are  presented  in  this  compact 
form  and  at  a  cheap  price.  Mr.  Hay  ward,  the  publisher,  is  a  young  man  here,  well 
known  as  a  dealer  in  books.  He  is  possessed  of  energy  and  character,  which  good 
qualities  have  obtained  for  him  the  copy  -right  of  these  speeches,  when  others,  though 
backed  with  influence  and  capital,  had  failed.  His  copyright  is  exclusive,  none  other 
will  be  given,  and  he  also  has  the  privilege  of  illustrating  the  volume  with  a  life-like 
steel  cut  of  the  "  Great  Expounder." 

A  ready  sale  and  a  large  and  increasing  demand  has  opened  up  to  him.  It  will 
be  the  step-stone  to  great  success.  —  Rochester  American. 

DANIEL  WEBSTER'S  ORATIONS.  —  Mr.  W.  M.  Hay  ward,  of  this  city,  has  published,  in 
a  pamphlet  of  1  12  pages,  Mr.  Webster's  Eulogy  on  Adams  and  Jefferson  ;  First  Settle 
ment  of  New  England  ;  Bunker  Hill  Monument,  and  the  Reply  to  Hayne.  It  contains 
also  an  excellent  likeness  of  Mr.  Webster,  engraved  on  steel.  These  Orations  are  now 
in  a  form  accessible  to  all,  and  should  be  in  the  hands  of  all  the  countrymen  of  the 
great  Statesman.  Orders  can  be  sent  to  the  publisher.  —  Rochester  Democrat. 

MR.  WILBUR  M.  HAYWARD,  of  this  city,  has  in  press  a  volume  composed  of  Mr. 
Webster's  greatest  Speeches,  viz  :  1.  The  Speech  on  laying  the  Corner  Stone  of 
Bunker  Hill  Monument.  2.  On  the  Death  of  Adams  and^Jefferson.  3.  On  the  Set 
tlement  of  New  England.  4.  Reply  to  Hayne.  It  will  be  published  next  week  ; 
and  containing  those  unequalled  efforts  of  the  great  American  Orator,  the  work 
cannot  faif  to  find  thousands  of  readers.  The  young  especially  should  treasure  it.  — 
Rochester  American. 

WEBSTER'S  GREAT  ORATIONS.  —  The  four  great  Speeches  or  Orations  of  Daniel 
Webster  to  which  we  have  before  alluded,  as  now  published  by  a  "  Rochester  boy," 
Mr.  Wilbur  M.  Hayward,  are  having  a  great  run.  The  publisher  yesterday  received 
an  order  for  five  hundred  copies  for  the  California  market,  and  orders  flow  in  so  freely 
from  all  quarters,  that  it  requires  great  industry  to  furnish  them.  Now,  however,  is 
the  time  to  secure  an  early  supply.  "First  come-,  first  served.'*—  Rochester  Union. 

WEBSTER'S  GREAT  ORATIONS  AND  SENATORIAL  SPEECH,  will  be  published  next 
•week  by  Wilbur  M.  Hayward.  The  volume  will  contain  the  Eulogy  on  Adams  and 
Jefferson  ;  Settlement  of  New  England  ;  Bunker  Hill  Monument  ;  and  Reply  to 
Hayne.  We  understand  that  it  is  to  be  embellished  with  a  fine  and  accurate  likeness 
of  the  great  Statesman  and  Orator.  Mr.  Hayward  has  shown  commendable  judgment 
in  the  selection,  and  enterprise  in  the  publication  of  this  work.  We  predict  for  it 
an  unprecedented  sale.  Price  37|  cents  —Rochester  Advertiser. 


218 

WEBSTER'S  GREAT  SPEECHES.— This  fine  work,  published  by  our  enterprising 
townsman,  Mr.  Hayward,  is  offered  in  a  new  form.  He  has  them  bound  in  black 
morocco,  the  cover  stamped  in  gilt  with  a  fine  emblematic  impression,  consisting  of 
stars,  coat  of  arms,  the  eagle  and  shield,  and  the  words  "  I  Still  Live."  We  are  glad 
to  learn  that  the  work  has  reached  a  very  extensive  sale,  and  is  still  growing. — Union. 

THE  GREAT  ORATIONS  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER  are  now  issued  in  form  for  the  library 
in  a  handsomely  bound  volume,  embellished  with  the  best  portrait  of  Mr.  W.  extant. 
The  orations  comprised  in  this  valuable  and  p  »pular  book,  are  among  the  choicest 
specimens  of  eloquence  ever  given  to  the  world.  As  models  in  this  respect,  and  as 
memorials  of  patriotism,  they  have  never  been  surpassed.  The  young  will  find  them 
worthy  of  careful  study,  and  the  old  may  read  them  and  revive  the  glorious  associa 
tions  of  the  past.  Price  50  cents.  All  orders  should  be  addressed  to  the  publisher, 
Wilbur  M.  Hayward,  Rochester.— Rural  New  Yorker. 

"  I  STILL  LIVE  !  " — Now  published,  Daniel  Webster's  three  greatest  Orations, 
and  the  Speech  in  reply  to  Hayne.  The  volume  contains  the  Eulogy  on  Adams  and 
Jefferson  ;  First  Settlement  of  New  England  ;  the  Bunker  Hill  Monument ;  and  the 
Reply  to  Hayne.  These  productions  of  America's  Master  Mind  will  live  and  be  read 
forever.  They  are  universally  admitted  to  be  the  best  specimens  of  American  Elo 
quence,  and  will  be  handed  down  to  immortality  along  with  the  most  elaborate  efforts 
of  Demosthenes,  Cicero,  Pitt  and  Burke.  The  eloquence  and  example  of  Webster  is 
a  rich  and  exhaustless  legacy,  of  which  every  American  can  feel  proud,  and  for  which 
he  should  be  grateful.  The  work  is  embellished  with  a  fine  and  accurate  Portrait  on 
Steel  of  the  great  Statesman  and  Orator.  It  should  be  in  the  hands,  and  its  senti 
ments  of  lofty  patriotism  in  the  hearts  of  all  who  boast  of  the  American  name.  It 
is  now  for  the  first  time  in  a  form  accessible. 

Price. — Single  copies,  37 £  cents  in  paper ;  in  muslin  binding  50  cents.  It  can 
be  mailed  to  any  part  of  the  world.  Three  copies  for  $1,00.  The  Trade  are  espe 
cially  invited  to  send  their  orders  for  this  book.  The  Copy-right  has  been  secured  by 
permission  of  the  family  of  Daniel  Webster,  and  the  work  is  stereotyped  in  the  best 
manner,  and  printed  on  fine  paper.  A  liberal  discount  will  be  made  on  all  orders. — 
Frederick  Douglass'  Paper. 

HATWARD'S  EDITION  of  Webster's  Bunker  Hill  Oration,  Eulogy  on  Adams  and 
Jefferson,  Address  at  Plymouth,  and  Reply  to  Hayne  in  the  U.  S.  Senate,  in  one  vol 
ume,  with  the  best  portrait  of  Webster,  is  now  out  and  meets  with  a  rapid  sale.  We 
are  glad  that  our  friend's  first  venture  in  publishing  succeeds  so  encouragingly,  and 
hope  he  may  always  give  us  works  as  worthy  of  purchase  as  this.  No.  4,  Burns' 
Block,  Rochester. — Rural  Ntw  Yorker. 

WEBSTER'S  GREAT  ORATIONS. — Wilbur  M.  Hayward  has  recently  published  the 
"Great  Orations  and  Senatorial  Speech  of  Daniel  Webster."  We  understand  that 
the  work  is  having  an  unprecedented  sale.  It  is  certainly  a  valuable  publication. 
The  Orations  are  the  most  profound  and  eloquent  in  the  English  language,  and  the 
steel  Portrait  of  the  great  expounder  is  the  best  extant.  Mr.  Hayward  is  entitled  to 
the  thanks  of  the  community  for  spreading  in  this  manner  the  fame  and  eloquence  of 
America's  Greatest  Intellect.  Any  of  our  friends  sending  us  by  mail,  (post-paid,) 
$1  for  the  first  volume  of  the  New  York  Magazine,  we  will  send  them  the  above 
work  as  a  premium. — New  York  Magazine. 

THE  GREAT  ORATIONS  OF  WEBSTER. — Wilbur  M.  Hayward,  an  enterprising  young 
man  of  this  city,  has  just  published  Webster's  Eulogy  on  Adams  and  Jefferson,  his 
orations  on  the  first  Settlement  of  New  England,  and  at  the  Bunker  Hill  Monumer.t, 
and  his  Reply  to  Hayne  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States.  It  is  elegantly  printed, 
and  contains  the  best  likeness  of  the  great  Statesman  we  have  ever  seen.  The  copy 
right  is  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Hayward.  It  is  only  a  few  days  since  the  work  came 
from  the  press,  and  yet  7,000  copies  have  been  sold. — Rochester  American. 

DURING  the  last  winter  and  spring,  when  the  friends  of  the  great  "statesman, 
Daniel  Webster,  were  urging  his  claims  to  the  tardy  justice  of  the  Whig  party,  it  was 
answered  by  the  Seward  men  :  "  Mr.  Webster  is  unpopular  at  the  West.  He  cannot 


219 

obtain  the  suffrages  of  a  single  State  west  of  Massachusetts.  The  publication  of  this 
volume  by  a  western  man  and  its  immense  sale  in  the  Western  States  gives  us  as 
surance  that  its  popularity  is  not  confined  to  eastern  latitudes,  but  that  the  whole 
count  y  regard  him  as  the  greatest  statesman  and  orator  America  ever  produced.  We 
wonder  how  Scotl  speeches  would  sell  ? 

The  publisher  is  a  most  enterprising  and  deserving  young  man.  Success  to  him* 
[Day  Book. 

THE  LIFE,  EULOGY  AND  GEE  AT  ORATIONS  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER,  Published  at  Rochester, 
N.  Y,  by  Wilbur  M.  Hayward  &  Co.  Philadelphia:  J.  W.  Moore,  193  Chestnut 
street. 

*  *  *  Could  our  heart's  desire  be  realized,  an  association  of  American  patriots 
should  be  formed  for  placing  a  copy  of  this  truly  American  work  in  the  hands  of  every 
citizens  throughout  this  Commonwealth  and  through  the  land.  But  as  we  have  little 
expectation  of  any  such  mode  of  distribution,  we  shall  take  pleasure  in  doing  the 
next  best  thing,  which  is  to  give  the  book  the  full  benefit  of  the  "  world-wide"  circu 
lation  of  the  American  Courier.  We  do  this  with  a  hearty  earnestness,  not  merely 
because  the  times  require  the  dissemination  of  the  sentiments  and  principles  of  this 
book,  not  alone  for  the  high  regard  and  the  deep  solicitude  we  feel  for  our  national 
constitution  and  the  institutions  of  the  country,  but  equally  so  from  the  intrinsic 
merit  both  of  the  orations  of  the  great  statesman  and  the  noble  eulogy  and  life  by 
which  those  orations  are  accompanied.  Of  the  high  standard  of  excellence  claimed 
for  the  majestic  eloquence  of  Mr.  Webster,  we  have  no  occasion  to  speak,  since  the 
country  has  fully  awarded  his  position  ;  an  award,  we  may  safely  say,  that  has  met 
the  concurrence  of  the  civilized  world.  Nor  do  we  except  from  this  concurrence 
even  of  Austria  itself;  for  the  masterly  exposition  of  American  principles,  in  the 
Hulsemanu  letter,  though  humiliating  to  the  overbearing  arrogance  of  that  power, 
has,  nevertheless,  commanded  the  respect  and  admiration  of  the  Austrian  nation. 
But  though  the  greatness  of  Mr.  Webster's  intellect,  the  vastness  of  his  acquirements, 
and  the  power  of  his  oratory  is  universally  admitted,  the  introductory  portion  of  this 
volume  deserves  especial  and  particular  commendation.  The  "  Life  of  Daniel  Web 
ster,"  with  which  the  volume  opens,  we  have  already  commended,  in  another 
form,  as  embodying  an  account  of  his  family,  and  such  details  of  his  domestic  habits 
and  personal  relations,  as  are  naturally  sought  for  with  eagerness,  by  those  who  have 
long  and  earnestly  watched  his  public  career.  This  desire  is  amply  gratified  ;  and 
so  of  the  "Illness  and  Death,"  which  succeeds.  There  are  facts  given  here,  in  re 
lation  to  the  final  dissolution  of  Mr.  Webster,  which  are  entirely  new  to  us,  much  as 
we  had  heard  and  read  of  the  "  Closing  Scene."  The  preparation  of  the  inscription 
for  his  tomb,  by  his  own  hand,  the  minute  disposition  of  his  personal  concerns,  and 
ihe  events,  at  the  last  eventful  moment,  when  the  fleeting  breath  in  leaving  its  mas 
sive  tenement,  are  all  fraught  with  interest,  as  showing  how  fully  his  intellctual  and 
moral  faculties  maintained  their  mastery  amidst  the  failing  resources  of  his  physical 
constitution.  Mr.  Webster  was  truly  an  extraordinary  personage. 

But  the  crowning  excellence  of  this  volume  is  the  "  Eulogy,"  which  so  truly  and  so 
jnstly  exhibits  the  man  in  all  his  greatness,  the  character  in  all  it  noble  proportions. 
It  furnishes  the  best  estimate  we  have  ever  seen,  of  Mr.  Webster.  In  a  perspicuous 
and  bold,  yet  strickingly  polished  style ;  it  presents  to  the  eye  the  noblest  column 
in  New  England  history,  the  granite  monument  that  stands,  and  will  stand  eternally, 
associated  with  Plymouth  Rock,  Fanueil  Hall  and  Bunker  Hill.  Associated  with  his 
name  and  touched  with  his  eloquence,  they  are  now  doubly  hallowed  spots  in  the 
remembrance  of  his  fellow  countrymen,  and  in  the  admiration  of  mankind. 

The  Eulogy  says,  and  we  think  justly,  that  as  a  forensic  orator,  there  is  no  age, 
past  or  present,  which  can  boast  his  superior.  He  unites  the  boldness  and  energy  of. 
the  Grecian,  and  the  grandeur  and  strength  of  the  Roman,  to  an  original  sublime 
simplicity,  which  neither  Grecian  nor  Roman  possessed.  This  is,  we  admit,  a  high 
wrought  encomium,  but  let  the  reader  turn  to  the  noble  specimens  given  in  the  ora 
tions  that  follow  the  close  of  this  Eulogy,  and  decide  if  the  praise  is  not  jus-t  and 
true.  We  have  much  that  we  should  like  to  say  in  commendation  of  this  book,  but 
can  only  at  this  time  urge  upon  all  to  apply  themselves  studiously  and  earnestly  to 
the  profound  thought  and  sublime  sentiment  of  American  patriotism,  which  this  rich 
volume  furnishes.  The  work  is  published  with  the  approval  of  the  family  of  the 
great  statesman.— -American  Courier.  '  . 


THE  LIFE,  EULOGY,  AND  GREAT  ORATIONS  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. — This  is  the  title  of 
i  work  recently  placed  on  our  table  by  Mellen  &  Co.,  53  Clark  street.  The  execu- 
ion  of  the  work  is  fiue.  The  type  is  large,  the  engraving  is  the  fine  one  usually  found 
.n  the  best  edition  of  his  works.  We  welcome  with  unfeigned  pleasure  any  such 
^Vork  calculated  for  universal  distribution  among  the  American  pe<  pie.  The  fume 
)f  Daniel  Webster  fills  the  world.  H.s  reputation,  his  thoughts,  his  illustrious  career 
ibrrn  a  component  part  of  the  private  capital  of  every  American.  Anything  bearing 
he  impress  of  his  genius — anything  embodying  his  thoughts  or  inculcating  the 
principles  that  governed  him  in  the  Court  Room,  in  the  Senate  Chamber,  or  Cabinet, 
.s  worthy  of  a  place  by  every  fire  side,  and  should  form  a  part  of  the  education  given 
:o  every  school  boy.  His  life — his  eulogy  "  on  Adams  and  Jefferson" — his  "First 
Settlement  of  New  England,"  and  his  reply  to  Hayne"  have  give  him  a  world  wide 
•eptUation,  and  made  our  Webster,  the  Webster  of  all  time.  American  Institutions 
ire  indebted  to  the  wisdom  and  foresight  ot  Webster  for  a  large  proportion  of  their 
'ame  abroad  and  their  stability  at  home.  Here  are  his  thoughts  and  precepts.  Let 
jvery  family,  too  poor  to  procure  his  works  complete,  get  these  strong  supports  to  the 
superstructure  of  his  greatness,  destined  to  go  on  increasing  with  the  wisest  of  the 
jarth-born  race.  The  book  may  be  had  at  Mellen  &  Co's.,  53  Clark  st,  Chicago. 
jet  it. 


"  The  Life,  Eulogy,  and  Great  Orations  of  Daniel  Webster,"  is  the  title  of  a  work 
)f  112  pages,  published  by  Wilbur  H.  Hay  ward  &  Co.,  Rochester,  for  a  copy  of  which 
;ve  are  indebted  to  Messrs.  Mellen  &  Co.f  of  Chicago.  The  work  contains  a  selection 
)f  the  most  important  and  eloquent  of  his  speeches,  with  a  familiar  account  of  his 
Dublic  and  private  career.  It  may  be  found  at  the  store  of  Mellen  &  Co.,  53  Clark 
street,  Chicago,  who  are  the.  only  ageuls  for  it  in  the  West. — Peru  Gazette. 


["HE  LIFE,  EULCGY,  AND  GREAT  ORATIONS  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTEE.    Rochester:  Wilbur 

M.  Hayward.    New  York:    Dewiit  &  'Davenport. 

To  those  who  are  not  able  to  procure  the  complete  works  of  the  great  Orator  and 
statesman,  this  volume  will  be  a  valuable  memorial.  It  contains  within  a  small  com- 
>ass  the  life  and  eulogy  of  Webster  ;  his  own  eulogy  on  Adams  and  Jefferson,  de- 
iAered  Aug.  2nd,  1826  ;  his  celebrated  Plymouth  oration,  delivered  Dec.  22d,  1820  ; 
lis  Bunker  Hill  oration,  deliveied  at  the  laying  of  the  corner  stone  of  the  monument, 
[nne  17,  1825,  and  last,  but  though  not  least,  his  celebrated  reply  to  Hayne,  in  full. 
L'he  memoir  contains  March's  graphic  description  of  its  delivery.  This  is  a  fair  de 
scription  of  the  great  mind  from  which  these  productions  emanated,  and  thousands 
ivill  be  glad  to  obtain  it. 

It  has  a  portrait  of  Webster,  for  a  frontispiece,  which,  has  been  published  before, 
hich  we  have  regarded  as  one  of  the  best  engraved  likenesses  that  we  have  teen. 


"  The  Life,  Eulogy  and  Great  Orations  of  Daniel  Webster,"  is  the  title  of  a  work 
ust  published,  sent  us  by  Mellen  <fe  Co.,  53  Clark  street,  Chicago,  only  agents  for  the 
cvest.  Price  50  cents  !  It  is  embellished  by  what  we  suppose  to  be  an  accurate  por- 
:rait  of  Webster  ;  is  well  got  up  in  clear  type,  and  furnishes  a  good  opportunity  for 
:he  admirers  of  the  great  statesman,  to  get  many  of  his  choicest  productions,  in  a 
iheap  form. 

LIFE  AND  ORATIONS  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. — We  have  been  favored  with  a  very  neat 
pamphlet  copy  of  "the  Life,  Eulogy  and  Great  Orations  of  Daniel  Webster."  The 
work  is  embellished  with  a  very  striking  engraving  of  the  great  orator  and  states 
man,  and  gives  a  graphic  sketch  of  his  life.  Among  the  speeches  are  Webster's  cele 
brated  reply  to  Hayne,  and  his  well  know  Plymouth  oration.  The  price  of  the 
work  is  50  cents.  Messrs.  Mellen  <fe  Co.,  53  Clark  street,  Chicago,  are  the  only  agents 
for  the  West. — [Alton  Daily  Telegraph. 

THE  LIFE,  EULOGT  AND  GREAT  ORATIONS  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER,  is  the  title  of  a  pam 
phlet  of  112  pages,  which  we  received  from  the  General  Periodical  Depot  of  Messrs. 
Mellen  &  Co.,  No.  53  Clark  street,  Chicago.  It  has  a  likeness  of  this  eminent  states- 


221 

man,  and  contains  a  short  history  of  his  life,  with  a  number  of  his  most  popular  ora 
tions.  This  is  a  work  that  should  be  in  the  hands  of  every  scholar  and  gentleman's 
library.  Price  50  cents  per  copy.— [  IVaukegan,  El,  Gazette. 


THE  LIFE,  EULOGY  AND  GREAT  ORATIONS  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER,  W.  M.  Hayward  &  Co., 

Publishers,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

This  is  a  neatly  printed  book  of  112  pages,  just  published,  for  a  copy  of  which  we 
are  indebted  to  the  politeness  of  Messrs.  Mellen  <fe  Co.,  53  Clark  street,  Chicago,  who 
are  the  only  agents  for  the  publishers  in  the  West.  In  addition  to  an  interesting 
sketch  of  the  life  and  character  of  Mr.  Webster,  the  work  contains  a  number  of  his 
masterly  and  unrivalled  orations,  together  with  his  great  speech  in  reply  to  Hayne, 
of  South  Carolina.  Every  admirer  of  America's  greatest  orator,  will  of  course  pro 
cure  a  copy. 

THE  LIFE,  EULOGY,  AND  GREAT  ORATIONS  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER.      Rochester :    Wilbur 

M.  Hayward  &  Co. 

The  title  of  this  work  explains  its  character  and  indicates  its  value.  It  gives  with 
in  the  limits  of  112  pages  as  complete  an  exhibition  of  what  the  great  Defender  of 
the  Constitution  was  and  did,  as  can  be  found  anywhere  within  the  same  compass. 
For  sale  by  Mellen  &  Co.,  53  Clark  street—  [Chicago,  ILL  Evangelist. 

LIFE,  EULOGY,  AND  GREAT  ORATIONS  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER.  Rochester,  1853. — W.  M 
Hayward,  of  this  city,  who  is  engaged  in  the  publication  of  Speeches  and  Portraits 
of  distinguished  American  Statesmen,  will  issue  next  week  a  volume  with  the  above 
title.  The  Orations  have  already  been  published  by  him,  and  sold  somewhat  exten 
sively.  The  Life  was  written  expressly  for  Mr.  H.  by  L.  Gaylord  Clark,  the  able 
and  popular  Editor  of  the  Knickerbocker  Magazine.  The  Eulogy  is  pronounced  by 
those  who  have  read  it  in  manuscript,  to  Le  the  best  which  has  yet  been  pronounced 
on  the  immortal  Webster.  The  work,  complete,  will  form  a  volume  of  over  two 
hundred  pages,  large  size,  and  will  be  illustrated  with  a  fine  steel  portrait  of  Mr. 
Webster.  It  will  be  likely  to  find  a  popular  appreciation  and  extensive  sale. — Rural 
New  Yorker. 

THE  LIFE,  AND  GREAT  ORATIONS  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTKR. — This  work  gives,  in  a  cheap 
form,  a  fine  likeness  of  the  great  Stateman,  a  comprehensive  sketch  of  his  life,  and 
four  of  his  ablest  speeches,  among  which  is  the  celebrated  reply  to  Mr.  Hayne.  For 
sale  by  Mellen  &  Co. — [  Chicago  Courier. 

"  LIFE,  EULOGY  AND  GREAT  ORATIONS  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER." — We  have  received 
from  Mellen  &  Co.,  Chicago,  only  agents  for  the  West,  a  copy  of  the  above  work. 
This  volume  needs  no  recommendation  from  us,  the  name  of  Webster  is  enough  to 
place  it  in  the  hands  of  every  lover  of  intellect  and  genius.  Remember  it  can  only  be 
had  at  53  Clark  street,  Chicago,  of  Mellon  &  Co. 


•\ 


- 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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UNIV.  OF  CALIF.,  BERK. 


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